


Natalie Winchester

by ZombieliciousXIII



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Character, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Sisterfic, Winchester Sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieliciousXIII/pseuds/ZombieliciousXIII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalie Winchester is Sam and Dean's little sister, growing up under the two had been fun for Natalie until Sam's departure to Stanford where her life turns into a living hell. Hunting became her only salvation as her dark past slowly begins to unravel itself. Follow the Winchesters through ups and downs of their lives as will known hunters. (This IS a SisFic!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Coloring of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written (this series started in 2012, how crazy is that?) and now I’m finally going through older chapters and editing them, trying to improve them as best I can and thought why not share them on more sites for you lovely humans to enjoy? That’s how we find ourselves here! Haha! I'll try to update (new chapters and old) as soon as I can each time I post, please give me your honest thoughts and feedback! It is always welcome, even criticism, I think of it as ‘constructive' haha!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of the television show Supernatural or any of the character that are mentioned or shown on the show. I do not own the ideas of the television show Supernatural. I do own the characters that I, myself, have created such as Natalie and other OCs.
> 
> I'll be work along the actual story line of the show, but I will also be adding a lot of my own ideas, so please bear with me! Most of the story will be done in Natalie's point of view but it will switch from character to character too and I will state as such, I also may do random crossovers too at some point!
> 
> Note: Natalie and Sam have a five-year age difference and Dean has a three-year difference between him and Sam, which means there’s a eight-year age gap between Natalie and Dean!
> 
> P.S. This chapter has been edited (in 2016 on my user BeAZombieLikeMe) and I’m working my through the chapters, so please bear with me as the formatting of events and even details of the story may change once they’ve undergone editing - all edited chapters will now have titles!
> 
> All right enough from me and back to the story!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written (this series started in 2012, how crazy is that?) and now I’m finally going through older chapters and editing them, trying to improve them as best I can and thought why not share them on more sites for you lovely humans to enjoy? That’s how we find ourselves here! Haha! I'll try to update (new chapters and old) as soon as I can each time I post, please give me your honest thoughts and feedback! It is always welcome, even criticism, I think of it as ‘constructive' haha!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of the television show Supernatural or any of the character that are mentioned or shown on the show. I do not own the ideas of the television show Supernatural. I do own the characters that I, myself, have created such as Natalie and other OCs.
> 
> I'll be work along the actual story line of the show, but I will also be adding a lot of my own ideas, so please bear with me! Most of the story will be done in Natalie's point of view but it will switch from character to character too and I will state as such, I also may do random crossovers too at some point!
> 
> Note: Natalie and Sam have a five-year age difference and Dean has a three-year difference between him and Sam, which means there’s a eight-year age gap between Natalie and Dean!
> 
> P.S. This chapter has been edited (in 2016 on my user BeAZombieLikeMe) and I’m working my through the chapters, so please bear with me as the formatting of events and even details of the story may change once they’ve undergone editing - all edited chapters will now have titles!
> 
> All right enough from me and back to the story!

**(Natalie's P.O.V)**

I remember the first time I’d ever seen Sam cry, I was five years old…it was terrifying.

I had heard the sound of yelling and shouting coming from the living room, I remember it scaring me to the point of wanting to hide away until it’d all stop. Being a child, back then I never understood what every fight that happened between Sam, Dean and our father meant, and to me our dad just seemed like a scary person. I wanted to hide, but not under the bed - not that there was any room under there - or in the closet, I wanted to hide under the bed covers with Sam like I we had done every time I was scared in the past. I remember hearing a loud crash coming from the living room, which caused my fear to heighten and I refused to stay still any longer, scared that something was wrong but more so that I needed to see Sam - I needed comfort.

"Smam!" I yelled as I shot up to run out of our room, leaving my horrendously colored picture of Elmo unfinished.

I had arrived into the living room just in time to see my brother running passed me into our room, I turned and began to run after my older brother, as fast as my little legs would take me. I remember not understanding why Sam was crying and running away from our father and Dean, who both looked angry and upset, but it hadn’t mattered to me because all I had wanted was my brother - all I wanted was Sam. Looking back, it must have had something to do with the 'discussion' that he had with them, and despite the vague memories it was of it was clear it seemed more like an argument than any kind of sit-down-conversation I had ever seen.

"Smammy!" I had yelled again, trying to get my brother’s attention.

I remember ‘Smam’ being was as close as I could come to saying my older brother's name, it was something that continued on until I was seven.

The door had slammed shut nearly hitting my face, I remember jumping back in fright that I’d stumbled backwards and began to cry, back then at that moment I had thought Sam was angry at me too. I had managed to stand back up despite being scared, as a child I didn’t understand that sometimes people liked being alone when they were sad, because back then when I was sad all I wanted was to do hug Dean and Sam until I felt safe and happy again. Going onto my toes I reached and pulled on the door handle pushing the barrier open, running up to my older brother only to stop in front of him.

"Smam?" I asked timidly, hiccuping as I cried watching my brother do the very same.

I had stood in front of him, his sobbing was all I heard and as I watched his shoulders shake with every cry I remember feeling less safe and more scared. I couldn’t see his face, unable to see if he was angry at me too like he was with Dean and dad, they’d all been angry with me at some point and as a child I knew that when someone yelled at you or gave you a mean look it meant they were unhappy with you, and I remember feeling scared that Sam would look at me harshly.

“I-I’m sorry, Smam…please don’t be mad at me…don’t cry…please Smammy…” I pleaded, gripping the hem of my shirt as if he’d just scolded me instead of crying before me. 

Sam looked up at me with tear stained cheeks that were continually watered by fresh tears, a red nose that matched with his puffy blood shot eyes, and I remember feeling myself flinch thinking he was about to yell at me.

"H-Hey Nat," my brother croaked, trying to smile. “Don’t cry baby…please…don't cry. You’re t-the last person…I-I’d wanna to see crying….” He sniffed, I barely understood what he was trying to say as he choked on every word that left his lips.

I recall Sam kneeling down from the bed in front of me so that he was close to my height, wiping his face of tears, and looking back I knew he was trying to seem strong like Dean, tried smiling at me so that I wouldn’t cry anymore despite his obvious sadness. He’d reached his arms around me and pulled my small frame in for a bone crushingly tight hug, but I remember not caring as my lungs were squeezed, because back then to me hugs meant you weren’t angry or sad anymore and I wanted Sam to be happy - I wanted to be happy again. Thinking back, I remember that it scared me to no end seeing Sam - or Dean - sad because when he was, I felt as if the world were no longer safe, as if a wall that had once protected my castle had crumbled into dust - back then I didn’t understand the aching feeling I’d felt, but now I do…it was fear.

“Sma-" my question was cut off by my eldest brother, Dean, who had been standing by the door and it seemed as if he had been standing there for a while and probably, judging by his face, he was too upset to say anything - but back then I didn’t care, I’d just wanted Sam.

“Hey…I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean had said, walking over to us. "I begged him not to tell you but the he didn't listen, I'm so sorry Sammy…” his voice broke midway through his last sentence, to my young mind I didn’t understand what any of Dean had said meant, and it wouldn’t be until years later that I finally would.

Sam let me go as he stood up to walk over to Dean, who didn't hesitate at all to pull Sam into a hug that looked much like the one Sam had given to me not to long ago. I remember watching as Sam buried his face into Dean's chest and began crying harder than before, and just like that my small-self had felt bad all over again. It wouldn't be until much later that I’d learn what an amazing brother Dean really was to us, but looking back at how he treated Sam and I it was clear we were lucky to have him. Dean had known better then to talk with Sam about what happened in the living room and continued to hug his brother, rubbing his back soothingly and doing his best to comfort him - as a child I’d never understood that sometimes being able to cry freely was a good thing, after all what was their to say? Finally, Sam began to calm down and the small room fell silent again, the only sounds that could be heard consisted of Sam and I's sniffling.

I just wanted to be hugged.

"It's not your fault," Sam states, looking up at his older brother.

“What?” Asks the blond, confusion clear on his face - back then I knew that face meant you didn’t know something, I had often made it when I didn’t understand things.

"It's not your fault…it’s mine, you warned me not to read dad's journal but I did, I should have known better but I did it anyway,” Sam continues, leaving me in the dust as to what they were talking about. “B-But it's better that I know… about everything,” the brunet finishes, wiping his remaining tears away.

"Sam…it's not-“

"It is Dean and you know it,” Sam says in with a stern voice, then softened his tone in his next sentence. “Besides, as long as you guys are by my side I should be fine, right?”

I remember watching them in confusion, but the moment Sam turned and smiled at me I had almost instantly felt better - I loved seeing my brothers smile. The brunet lifted me off the floor as if I were as light as air, I smiled and laughed happily while wiping my face clean, and upon seeing Sam smile at me brilliantly it instantly stopped my tears and caused me to smile back even wider.

Dean paused before grinning as well, "you got that right Sammy, I'd _never_ let either of you get hurt, I'd rather die," he let out a small chuckle as he walked over to us, bringing us into a group hug.

"Listen dad left for another gig so it's just us, wanna order pizza? My treat," I squealed happily recognizing the word ‘pizza’.

"Yay De! Pitta!" Sam and Dean began to laugh at me.

"It's 'pizza' Nat," Sam corrected, still grinning happily.

"Ok then 'pitta' it is, but first, Sam please clean Nat's face it's covered in snot," Dean ordered as he released us from the hug, heading towards the door leaving the room.

"Why me?!" Sam yelled after Dean, I had no idea why they were yelling but I remember not feeling fearful of the tone they were using at that point - plus their smiles kept me calm.

“'Cuz I'm the eldest and I said so,” Dean answered bluntly, smirking before walking out of the room.

Sam let out an aggravated sigh while rolling his eyes only to look back at me, “okay Nat let's get you cleaned up so we can eat some pizza, yeah?”

I looked at Sam slapping both of my hands onto each side of his face, holding it so that his eyes met mine.

"You not sad anymore, Smammy?" I asked, looking at him to make sure he wasn’t crying anymore.

I remember Sam giggling at what was supposedly my 'serious' face, "no Nat, I'm not sad anymore.”

"Good!" I laughed happily, hugging my brother once more.


	2. "It's Called Being A Winchester"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all for reviewing so far, and to those of you who have reread the first chapter I’ve edited, thank you so much! It means a lot to me, you guys have no idea how happy I am! I couldn't stop smiling! I'm so excited! Well here's more about the innocence of Natalie before she finds out about the things that go 'bump' in the night…I hope you like it!
> 
> NOTE: This chapter has been edited (in 2016 on my new user ‘BeAZombieLikeMe’) to the best of my abilities, I'm working my through the chapters so please bear with me as the formatting of events and even details of the story may change once they've undergone editing - all edited chapters will now have titles! Please let me know if there are still any mistakes!

**(Natalie's P.O.V)**

I remembered at the age of seven I was still happily innocent to the true nature of the world around me, without a care in the world my life simply revolved around my brothers and me...at times I wish things were still so simple. I recall Sam, Dean and I were up watching cartoons one night as we waited for our father to come back with dinner, back then I had always thought he was just out working late at a construction site - I'd later come to realize I was wrong, at least about the 'work' I believed he'd done. Then again, neither of my brothers had ever lead to believe otherwise, and now, looking back I’m thankful they let me remain ignorant for as long as they had. I recall Sam refusing to stop complaining about being hungry and it was obvious that Dean was getting fed up, and while I myself was hungry too, back then I didn't really care - as a child a cookie was enough to sate me.

"Geez where _is_ dad? I'm starving!" Sam grumbled petulantly, glaring at the rerun of _ThunderCats_ on the ancient TV - I remember the thing had crooked antennas from how much we had to beat the damn thing to even pick up a signal, let alone a clear one.

"He'll be back soon stop whining!" Dean snapped in response, I was able to tell he wasn't really angry, just fed up as he rolled his eyes.

"I am _not_ whining!" Sam countered, back then - and even now - I was used to their near constant disputes.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!”

"Shouting is bad," I huffed, feeling like a piece of soggy lettuce caught in their bickering sandwich. "And you're squishing me!" I added, as if that were the worst part of it all.

"Bitch," Dean mumbled, I knew that was a bad word - our father had smacked Dean upside the head enough times for me to know to never say it back then, but it never seemed to stop Dean.

"Jerk," Sam retorted, huffing as he folded his arms over his chest like a sullen child - I remember Sam always being a little more dramatic than necessary when I was younger.

After a minute or two I needed to go to the toilet, "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, being the eldest he found it mandatory to _always_ know where Sam and I were - to this day that trend still continues, even if the answer was obvious.

"I gotta pee!" I replied with a giggle, hopping off the couch.

"Aw you gotta go potty?" Sam teased, and being a child my famous retort was always the same; I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Butt munch."

"Terd!" I called back over my shoulder, smiling mischievously - it always felt good to have the final word with my brothers.

I remember Dean taught me that one when I was six, and it just stuck.

Entering the bathroom I locked the door behind me, I remember the space wasn't exactly 'neat', from strewn clothes on the floor to bath toys I loved playing with, it was pretty much a mess. Once finished with doing my business I climbed up the stepladder set in front of the sink - thank you Dean - and washed my hands, upon meeting my gaze in the mirror I smiled. I recall loving the familiar sight as a child, before insecurities warped my mind - making me hate everything I had once loved so much about myself - and life adorned my body in scars that stand prominent to this day. Even now I still recall what I had loved most about myself as a child; my eyes, my right a jade green that complemented my wavy chocolate brown hair, and as a kid I believed I got my brown locks from our father - like Sam had. However, it was always my left eye that I had always loved most when I was younger, a pure gold ring around my iris and it had always made me feel special, as if it had been kissed by the sun or touched by an angel. Looking back now, I know it was strange, Dean had green eyes while Sam’s were a mixture of hazel and green, our father had brown eyes and Mary had blue - so to have green, let alone gold, made no sense.

Even as a child I couldn't help but think, ' _why am I different?'_

Turning the sink faucet off I hopped off the small ladder and dried my hands before exiting the lavatory, heading back into the living room and smiled upon hearing my brothers bickering again - to this day I love it, love how in some short moments we resembled a normal family, then again, back then I truly believed we were ‘normal’.

"Why are you yelling again?" I asked, popping up behind the two on the couch.

"Dean is saying that Joel slept with Tiffany, which he didn’t 'cuz he _totally_ has the hots for Melanie!" Sam complained turning to look back at me, but my brows knitted together - none of his words made any sense to me.

Looking in between them and towards the TV screen I noticed the channel was changed, they were now watching one of those boring adult shows and were even arguing over it. I recall always dosing off while Sam and Dean - and even our father - watched them, but I never understood why they liked those shows so much, they weren’t any fun to watch.

"Dude, Joel _did_ sleep with Tiffany!" Dean practically yelled, and just like that, I was lost to their conversation all over again.

"Ok, I know how to fix this," I said, walking over to the TV set my brothers watched me, both with one brow raised.

I switched it off.

"HEY!" The duo yelled in unison, I remember thinking they both looked like I had just licked the last cookie only to put it back in the jar - which, to be fair, I had done in the past…but they did it too! Where do you think I learned it from?

"Now you can stop yelling," I said as if it made perfect sense, when Sam and I bickered Dean would just do something - like what I had done - to stop it, and usually it worked.

"Brat," Dean shot at me, chuckling while shaking his head.

“Meathead," I quickly shot back and smiled, Sam grinned - he taught me that retort shortly after Dean had taught me his.

We all began to laugh wholeheartedly, walking back over to sit in between them again I leaned against Sam who wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I remember looking up at both my brothers smiling, feeling safe and happy in that moment - now, I wish I had cherished those moments far more. However, something came into my little mind and being a child it flew out of my mouth without much thought.

"Am I weird?"

"What?" Sam asked, looking down at me in obvious confusion.

"Why do you think you're weird?" Dean asked, adding in a playful manner. "Well I mean you totally are, but why are you asking?"

I smiled at his words, knowing his quirked lips meant he was just kidding.

"Well…um…I asked daddy before, but he never answered me…" I began, and I recall Sam letting out a sigh as he rolled his eyes, I realize now the expression on his face had screamed 'figures' - thankfully, as a kid I knew when Dean was unhappy, and quickly went on to stop them from _actually_ fighting.

"A-Anyway…" I quickly continued, twisting my little fingers with one another as I tried to work out the question in my head. "Do you guys know why I have such a weird eye color? I mean I really like it, but it's just...why is it so different from you and Sammy? And why is it only one eye?" I asked, looking up at Dean - as a child I remember believing both he and Sam knew everything, even if they were only fifteen and ten years-old at the time.

Both of my brothers glanced at each other before replying, and looking back I only now realize what their looks really meant, it was the same look Dean gave Sam when they'd tell me dad came home to drop off Christmas or birthday presents but decided to not wake me - when really, he never showed - it was their 'big brother' look. It wasn't a lie per se, it's the type of look you'd give another adult around a child who asked if Santa was real; it meant 'play along'.

"Listen Nat, the reason dad can't answer you is 'cuz the answer is _right_ in front of you," Dean replied, grinning down at me.

"It is?" I didn't know how to respond, looking in between my brothers for an answer.

 _'It was?'_ I thought, trying to figure out what was so obvious but I had missed.

"Yup it's pretty obvious," Sam added, smiling at me.

' _What is it?'_ I thought to myself, still lost as to what they were alluding to.

"Do you know what ' _it'_ is?" Dean questioned, looking at Sam once again and they began to mirror each other’s mischievous smirks.

"Well?" Sam prompted, raising an eyebrow. "Do you know what it is?"

I shook my head no.

"It's called being…" Dean paused, my guess now is that it was for 'dramatic effect'. "A Winchester!"

Sam began to whistle a tune that I knew all too well, "Sam that's the song from _X-Files_ , we're not aliens!" I giggled, shaking my head at my older brother’s silliness.

"Nat, our family might as well be from another planet," Sam joked, we all chuckled at his remark.

"So I have a gold eye because I'm a Winchester?" I asked, looking up at Dean again waiting for an answer.

"Yup," the blond replied, grinning as he ruffled my hair. "All us Winchesters have something special."

"Like what?" I questioned, I remember feeling honestly amazed by their answer, and I had truly believed everything they were claiming was the truth - back then.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dean began, grinning like a fool. "My amazingly good looks, for one, it should be illegal to be this hot," our eldest brother answered confidently, striking a pose that made me giggle.

"And I have my Einstein smarts!" Sam exclaimed, I smiled happily while nodding in agreement - I always knew Sam was smart, as a child if you read books for fun to me it meant you were, and Sam was almost always reading.

"Don't get cocky, Sam," Dean chided with a fake stern voice, which earned him a punch to the shoulder. "OW!" Dean yelped in a playfully overdramatic tone, pouting as he rubbed his shoulder.

"And my eye!" I had stated with glee, overtly excited to come to learn that both my brothers and I shared such amazing ‘Winchester traits’.

Both my brothers looked back to me, "exactly" they said in unison, Sam began ruffling my hair again, but Dean took things a step further and grabbed both of my wrists.

"Get her, Sam!" Dean yelled and I instantly began to squeal, doing my best to fight against my brother's tight hold.

However, with both my arms over my head, I knew I was no match against Sam and Dean, but as a child I had a plethora of energy and used it as best I could to try to wriggle free. I began to kick, scream, and laugh all at once as Sam tickled me into a squirming mess.

"Tickle torture!" Sam yelled manically, nimble fingers pushed into my armpits making me flail all the more.

"No!" I barked out laughing, tears coming to my eyes as I went breathless. "Stop! I'm gonna pee! Stop! Stop! I can't breathe! I'm gonna pee!" I screeched, laughing in between gasps for air.

Dean let go as Sam stopped, I sat up, finally able to catch my breath through giggles, but we all paused for just a moment and I remember how crazy we all looked - before I knew it we were laughing all over again.

"Nat you should have seen your face!" Dean sniggered, grabbing his sides.

"I thought for sure you were gonna kick me in the face if a hadn't stopped!” Sam added, laughing just as hard and even doubled over.

"You got that right!" I exclaimed through gleeful guffawing, kicking my feet to make my point.

We finally began to calm down, chuckles and giggles slowly faded just as a thought popped into my mind.

"What about daddy?" I had asked, the question not really directed to anyone.

"What?" both of my brothers asked at the same time, it's funny that over the years they still have such perfect timing.

"What's dad's ‘Winchester’ thingy?" I asked curiously, looking in between my siblings.

"Hm…I think dad's would be-" Dean was cut off by Sam blurting out.

"Being able to pack a good whipping?"

"No," Dean replied, rolling his eyes with a grin.

"Best deer hunter?" I pitched in, remembering how our father had so many guns for hunting - if only I had known what he _really_ hunted...but that wouldn't come until later.

"Well yes…but no… maybe-" Dean, again, was cut off.

"How about being able to care for three crazy kids?" a deep voice from behind us answered, I remember smiling wide at the voice before whipping around.

"Daddy!" I yelled happily, watching as he closed the front door to our small apartment.

"Hey dad," Dean greeted, which was followed by a wave from Sam who looked more then relieved that our father had finally arrived with our food - I remember it was only when I saw the bags of takeout that I'd realize how hungry I was...then again, I'm still pretty much that way.

"Alright kids time for dinner," John said, throwing his keys onto the small table by the door and headed for the kitchen - we all followed behind him like a pack of hungry puppies.

We all stood around our kitchen table and waited for our dad to give out our meals, I remember practically bouncing on the balls of my feet as I felt my tummy rumble at the smell of fast food - as a child you love snacks and junk food, but now I crave home cooked meals like no one's business.

Dean was first to get his meal, "Dean; cheeseburger, extra onions, fries, and a coke," John said, doing his mental checklist aloud as he brought out each part of the meal - but even if he'd gotten the order wrong none of us would have dared complain.

"Thanks dad," Dean replied, taking his food and headed towards the living room once again.

Sam was next, "Sam; chicken nuggets, fries, and a coke."

"Thanks pops," Sam chirped, following Dean's lead back into the living room.

"Finally, Natalie; cheeseburger extra onions, fries, and a 7-up," John concluded, handing me my scrumptious meal.

"Thank you, daddy!" I replied happily, taking my meal and all but ran to catch up with my brothers.

Just as I sat down on the living room floor I noticed Sam pause, his brows creasing in the middle as if he were trying to work out something in his head.

"This is weird…" Sam began, worrying at his lower lip in thought.

"What's weird?" Dean asked around a mouthful of fries.

"Dad _never_ gets our orders right...well, not unless he's got some kind of bad news…" Sam trailed off and looked at Dean, I remember not knowing what was going on but judging by the looks on my brothers' faces, it wasn't good.

Dean's eyes went wide with worry as he putdown his burger, "Shit! You're right…what do you think it is this time?"

"Damn and here I thought I was being sneaky," John said lightheartedly, announcing his presence in the living room and we all looked over. "But you boys are right, and Dean _language_. Looks like I've been figured out, you boys start school tomorrow, and I'm leaving for a week starting tomorrow night, so take this meal as a warning to _not_ get into trouble while I'm gone," our father finished, watching Dean intently most of all - back then the meaning in John's brown eyes went over my head, but now I know it was his silent way of telling Dean _'you're in charge_ ’.

It wouldn't be until years later that I'd finally understand how harmful so much responsibility could be on someone so young.

After about an hour we were all sat in the living room in various places, our hunger sated as we leaned on one another on the couch and silently watched _Goosebumps_ \- I always loved that show as a child. I was leaned against Sam who was pressed against Dean, while the blond didn’t even seem to be bothered by the extra weight on his side - if I’m being honest, I think he enjoyed it. I recall that Dean’s arm was slung over Sam’s shoulders, long enough to just reach the nape of my neck and I was comforted by the feeling of my brother mindlessly playing with my hair as we all sat crowded together. John was on a separate chair, drinking his second brown bottle of something - at the time, I didn’t know it was beer. Looking back I don’t think John ever really sat with us in those moments, if he’d made us move a little further up there would have been more than enough space for him to have joined - to be a family - but he never did. Not once. The episode came to a close, I was the first to yawn, which - unfortunately - caught out father’s attention.

"All right kids time for bed," the brunet began, taking another pull from the brown bottle. "All of you."

"Aw!" Sam and I had whined in unison, but Dean was already standing and cleaning the mess of takeout containers.

"You heard me, to bed, now," I remember John saying, his ever present stern tone making itself known.

"Yes sir," we all simply replied, Dean went to the kitchen to throw the garbage away before heading to his room while Sam and I went to ours.

"Drill sergeant's back," Sam huffed to me as we entered our room, making sure to whisper his comment - even back then I knew, if only from his tone, that if Dean or John had heard what Sam said he'd be in hot water.

I remember saying nothing and instead opted to just change and I quickly looked through my drawers and pulled out my - well actually Dean’s - gray Metallica t-shirt that was very roomy and fit almost like a dress, which I liked, along with a pair of plain blue shorts. I headed to the bathroom to change before any of my brothers could beat me to it, after having changed and brushed my teeth I headed back to my room just in time to see Dean leaving his room heading towards the bathroom. When I stepped into my room Sam had already changed, putting away his dirty clothes and held a hand out for me to give him mine - he knew better than to trust me with putting them away. Once handing him the garments I decided to jump onto my bed, which was the one closest to the window, and I recall loving it because I could look at the stars until I fell asleep - to this day I always claim the bed nearest to the window.

While sitting on my bed I picked at the bedspread and hadn't realized Sam was already halfway out the door when I finally called out to him, ”Sammy?”

"Yeah?" he replied, stoping at the door and turned to look at me.

"Can you tuck me in?" I asked, I had known I should have outgrown something so silly - even back then - both my brothers had but I loved it too much to give up.

I remember Sam smiling softly, "sure, just gimme a sec," he replied, I was always thankful Sam never turned me down.

I watched the brunet walk out of our room, probably heading towards the bathroom, and smiled as I began to hear my brothers squabble in the distance.

"Dean hurry up!" Sam yelled, banging on the bathroom door.

"Wait your turn, princess!" Dean retorted, his voice muffled but still clear enough for me to hear.

"Dean you're such a jacka-" my brother’s words were cut of mid-bad-word.

"BOYS!" I heard our father yell from the living room, loud and clear - I think it made me flinch, I can’t quite remember if it did or not, but I’m putting my money on the former _._ "Cut the crap and get to bed!”

"Yes sir,” both boys replied, obviously sulking at getting scolded.

I heard the bathroom door open not long after John had yelled, then a muffled smack - which knowing my brothers was Sam getting hit in the back of the head by Dean.

I heard someone somewhat quietly hiss, “OW!"

That would be Sam…I chuckled.

I pushed back the worn blankets of my bed and slipped under the covers, silently waiting for my brother and passed the time staring at the age-old marks on the ceiling, imaging shapes forming in the darkened parts. After about ten minutes, Sam returned to our room closing the door behind him, and I recall quickly shutting my eyes wanting to scare him when he came close enough - what can I say, I was a little shit, but so were my siblings.

“Oh, well looks like Nat's asleep…guess I won't be tucking her in," Sam said dramatically, as a child I couldn’t catch the playful tone of his voice that meant he knew I was faking, and so I - gullibly - believed he thought I was actually asleep.

"No! Tuck me in, pretty please! With cherries on top!" I begged, sitting straight in an instant only to find Sam standing over me.

“Well aren’t you sneaky?” The brunet says, a loose and gentle smile curling his lips, and reached down to pull the blankets back up my body once I’d laid down.

"Don't worry Nat I planned on doing it anyway," Sam reassured me, kissing my forehead - unknown to me, back then Sam did it every night whether I was asleep or not. ”Goodnight Nat.”

“G'night Sammy," I replied, watching as he walked back over to the lights, which were about three steps away from his bed.

"Alright I'm gonna shut the lights, you settled in?”

"Yup!" I replied, snuggling further into my bed.

The lights flicker off and I heard my brother moving to his mattress, my eyes adjusted to the darkness fairly quickly, and I watched Sam’s silhouette as he pulled the blanket over himself. The room went extremely quite, the only noises that could be heard were the air vents and cars outside, and I recall hating being in extremely quite situations when I was younger - especially when it was bedtime. I always felt awkward, like if I had made any noise whatsoever the other person would get annoyed with me, and so I remained as still as possible. Finally, I managed to quietly get comfortable beneath my sheets and slowly began to drift off. However, before everything went black one thought streamed through my mind, one I always had before falling asleep.

' _I hope I don't have any bad dreams…’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I was thinking about making 4 chapters - maximum - about innocent Natalie before things start to go haywire for her, what do you think? R&R please!
> 
> And I’d like to thank this wonderful person for reviewing the edited version of “Chapter 1: A Coloring of the Past”;
> 
> ~aranka17 (FF.net user)
> 
> Thank you so much!! xxoxoo


	3. Making Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie's first day at school! Please leave comments letting me know what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's another chapter and I hope you enjoy it! It's kind of long so I'm happy! Oh yeah!
> 
> Me: Natalie will you please tell our lovely readers what I (unfortunately) do not own?
> 
> Natalie: Sure! BeAZombieLikeMe doesn't own Supernatural or any of its characters like-
> 
> Dean: Me!
> 
> Sam: Or me!
> 
> Natalie: I was just about to say that, jerks!
> 
> Dean: Well then hurry up! I'm sick of waiting!
> 
> Sam: Guys quit it! You're gonna make the readers upset!
> 
> Dean & Natalie: SHUT IT, SAM!
> 
> Me: *Pats Sam's back* There there, It's okay Sammy
> 
> Sam: *Sigh* The shit I deal with…
> 
> NOTE: This chapter has been edited (in 2016) to the best of my abilities, please let me know if there are still any mistake

  **(Natalie’s P.O.V)**

 I remember waking up the next day yawning and beginning to stretch when, suddenly, _“ow!"_

Quickly I tried to relax my leg, slowly moving my foot in an attempt to rid my limb of a hellish cramp, _every time!_ I mentally grunt. Only when the pain had finally subsided I looked around the room, Sam was nowhere in sight and his bed already made, I slowly shifted out of my own bed and headed to the kitchen, slowing when I spotted my dad sitting at the kitchen table with a mug sat on the table before him, news paper in hand.

"Daddy where's Dean and Sam?" I asked, voice groggy from sleep as I walked over rubbing whatever sleep that remained out of my eyes.

"At school,” John replied simply, taking a sip from the mug of steaming black liquid.

“shool?" I asked with curiosity, but was also filled with jealousy at the place my brothers went to for hours without me - back then I remember wanting so much to go to school, too.

"You mean 'school'?" My father corrected, chuckling softly.

I nodded at his correction, but thought, ' _isn't that what I said? I need to eat something…’_

“When can I go too?” I asked, going to the fridge only to frown when I saw nothing but an old carton of milk and two eggs.

"Well baby you'll be going next year, it's a place where you’ll learn lots of stuff, like your brothers are doing right now,” John began, shifting a little to make room for me to sit on his lap. “They have teachers who will teach you everything, well… _almost_ everything you need to know, unfortunately schools can't teach you everything _…_ " I recall him muttering the last part, which seemed to be more for himself than me.

”What do you mean by not ‘everything', daddy?” I asked, climbing onto his lap.

"Well…" John paused for a moment, glancing at his paper then back at me before answering. "Well honey there's some things in life that school can't teach you, but your brothers and I can, and some things you have to learn on your own.”

"Oh…okay…" I replied not fully understanding what he meant, but shrugged my shoulders nonetheless - wasn’t ‘school’ supposed to teach you everything you needed to know? Apparently not.

"When will Dean and Sam be back?”

"Soon baby, but until then do you want to watch cartoons?" John questioned with a smile, he hardly ever wanted to watch cartoons with us and I recall all but lunging at the chance.

“Yes!” I exclaimed happily, about to hop off his lap when a thought came to mind. “Um…can I ask one more question?”

John hummed in response, which I took as a yes.

Pulling my gaze away from my father's face I looked down at the cup that held the mysterious dark liquid, ”what’s that? I see you drinking it all the time and I still don't know what it is,” I concluded, pointing a small finger at the mug.

“It’s coffee baby, coffee gives lots people the energy to stay awake,” he replied taking another sip. “But for some, like me, it just tastes nice.”

"Can I try it?" I asked, not missing a beat looking up at my father with pleading puppy dog eyes - I remember at that point I had begun to realize that both John and Dean never said no to that look, but it didn't work that well with Sam…after all he’s the one I learned it from, so he was almost immune. Almost.

"Just a little bit!” I pleaded, noticing his expression leaning towards a no. “Please daddy!" I whined, smiling as large as I could.

"Okay, okay, no whining,” John chuckled, holding the cup up for me to take. “Here, but you might not like it.”

The older brunet handed me the now lukewarm cup of coffee, which I quickly lifted and put to my lips before slowly tipping it. I almost remember exactly how I felt once the contents - more than I had wanted - slipped past my slightly parted lips and hit my tongue. It tasted extremely bitter and dull, it felt gritty in my mouth and I immediately cringed. Quickly, I spat the horrible liquid back into the cup, and as an extra measure I remember spitting some more to make sure it was _all_ out of my mouth, but even then the horrible taste still lingered making me shudder.

John began to laugh at the face I pulled, "I told you, you might regret it!”

I set the cup back onto the kitchen table, glaring back at my dad.

"You tricked me!” I half yelled, pouting like the petulant child I was, even crossing my arms over my chest trying to make my point that this was no laughing matter.

"And how did I do that exactly?" John questioned, clearly amused and playfully lifted a eyebrow at me.

"That's not coffee, that's dirt!” I exclaimed, as if it were obvious. “You said it tasted nice!”

“No, it’s coffee, sweetie,” chuckled the older man, setting down his newspaper.

I let out a sigh, back then I believed our father would never lie to me and believed him - at least in this instant, he was being truthful.

"Okay so _maybe_ that really is coffee, but I ain’t _ever_ drinkin’ it again!”

"Good to know,” John chuckled, as a child I remember he was always kinder with me - it honestly makes my heart ache that it’s so different now. “Ready to watch TV?”

"Can I have PopTarts? Please?” I asked, putting on my best pair of puppy dog eyes and he sighed in defeat - I smiled, excited to have something sweet to rid my mouth of the horrid taste still lingering in it.

"Okay I'll make them and you go set up the TV.”

“Thanks dad!” I exclaimed happily, finally hopping off his lap and jetted into the living room before he could change his mind.

I had turned on the TV and began flipping through channels but abruptly stopped, switched back, and stared at the soap opera Sam and Dean had been watching the previous night - it was even nearing the part I had switched off the TV. I remember sitting silently, trying to grasp what the actors where saying, but being only seven at the time everything just went over my head.

' _How can Dean and Sammy like this so much?'_ I couldn't help but think, already bored with the figures speaking on the screen.

The scene my brothers were unable to get to - because of yours truly - had passed and I was still unbearably bored, which made hearing John enter the living room that much easier, whipping around I smiled at our father and felt almost giddy at the prospect of PopTarts for breakfast. I remember eyeing the plate in his hands like a damn hawk, if John had noticed he said nothing, and sat down beside me on the couch.

"No cartoons on?" The elder brunet asked, raising a brow at the screen.

"I wanted to see why Sammy and Dean like this so much," I replied with a nonchalant shrug, taking the plate from him and setting it on my own lap. "But it's really boring."

"Well that's because you don't understand it, silly," John chuckles, but I remember being able to tell he was already interested in whatever was going on on screen.

Not bothering to change the channel we'd both silently sat in the living room, John watching the show while I barely paid it any mind, instead I was far more enamored with eating the chocolaty pastries on my plate. However, I recall suddenly thinking of something from the night before, and - like always when I was younger - the words flew out of my mouth before I could properly think on them.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah sweetie?" John said, glancing down to me then back at the screen.

" _Did_ Joel sleep with Tiffany?" I asked looking up at him, repeating my brothers' topic of bickering from the night before.

I remember not understanding why John's eyes widened - comically so - for a second, but as always he quickly composed himself, and now that I think of it, he'd probably realized where I'd get a question like that from - after all seven year-olds don't honestly know much about sex, hell, back then I still believed _Cooties_ were a thing.

"Yes he did, sweetie," I could see the amusement play across my father's face as he looked back up to the screen and mumbled to himself. "I'm going to kill your brothers..."

I remember simply nodding, not fully understand why John would be angry with my brothers, but then again I can't honestly say I cared about anything other than my PopTarts in that moment. However, looking back at that Monday morning I can't help but laugh at the thought that John might have actually stayed up late nights watching the lives of overdramatic characters unravel across the TV screen - did he cry? Dear lord, why is it somehow more terrifying imagining John Winchester crying while watching soap operas than believing the world was about to end?

* * *

 

**_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP, BEEP-BEEP-BEEP, BEEP-BEEP-BEEP--_ **

I remember one Monday morning, almost a year later, I was awoken by Sam's fucking alarm clock and felt as though someone had just shot me in the head. Worst part? The damn thing just. Kept. BEEPING.

"URGH! Turn da thin' off!" I tiredly slurred, about to tear my hair out.

I reached over, gripping the offensive item and all but hurled the alarm clock off the night stand only to hear it crash to the floor, and _finally,_ hell's siren stopped. I sighed in relief.

' _It's friggin six-thirty in the morning!’_ I mentally screamed, being too tired actually say anything and simply curled further under my blanket.

However, my moment of peace was short-lived.

"Nat! That's my clock! What the hell?!” I remember Sam bellowing, about two minutes after I had finally managed to get alarm to stop - leave it to Sam to make a good alarm substitute.

"Nat get up, it's time for school," my brother huffed, no doubt picking up his alarm clock - or at least the pieces of it. "Your lucky it still works.”

I’d gotten my hopes up for no reason, it seemed.

"Not for long," I mumbled, turning over trying to get into a more comfortable position.

"What was that?" Sam asked in a wanna-run-that-by-me-again? tone - and no, I really didn't.

“Nothin’."

"Good…" he trailed off, I faintly heard him walking over to me.

I should have seen it coming.

”Now… _get up!_ " Sam yelled, hitting me with a pillow as hard as he could - that or it had rocks in it.

"Sam quit it or you're gonna end up havin’ a broken nose!" I threatened, much like I’ve heard Dean do in the past, he stopped - or so I thought.

Now this, I can confidently I defiantly _didn’t_ see coming.

Suddenly I felt my body freeze in shock for a split-second before violently trembling as I scrambled out of my bed, to make matters better I recall face-planting the floor with a shriek. The bastard dunked ice-water on me.

Least to say, I was awake, and _pissed._

"SAM!" I screeched, hurriedly scrambling off the floor.

The second I was on my feet I saw a mop of brown hair blur out of the room, and instantly chased after my jerk of a older brother, he may have been faster but I was damn persistent. I had chased Sam into the kitchen where I, of course, ran into Dean at full speed knocking us both to the floor - wasn’t I just lucky? I remember landing so hard on my ass I felt a pang of pain shoot up my spine from my tailbone, and Dean must have felt the same as he landed the way I had, and it was clear neither of us were happy. However, looking back, I actually feel worse for the blond, being the tiny-tike I was my head came up to just beneath Dean's torso, and I’m pretty sure I winded the poor guy.

"Fuck!" Dean coughed, clutching his stomach with a cringe.

"Ow…" I muttered, my hand moving to rub my lower back as I slowly opened my eyes.

"What the hell Nat?!” Croaked the blond, glaring daggers at me. “You’d better have been trying to escape a damn murder for runnin’ around like a jackass!”

"Don't blame me, it’s Sam's fault!”

"If I recall _you're_ the one that crashed into me _not_ Sam!” Accused my older brother, and instantly I felt horrible, like any scolded child would.

“But-" The words died on my tongue the second Dean held his hand up to silence me.

“Whatever,” he huffs, rubbing away whatever pain lingered in his torso. “Why aren't you dressed?" Dean asked holding out a hand to help me up too, only then did he really take notice of me.

“And why are you wet?”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking his hand and was easily pulled up to my feet. “I’m gonna change…sorry Dean,” I said looking to the floor, not answering his second question as I felt tears already pricking at my eyes.

I recall hearing Dean sigh softly before he pulled me into a hug, I instantly hugged him back - as a child I always carried a sickly feeling in my stomach if any of my brothers were mad at me, and would have done anything to fix whatever mistake I had done.

"I'm sorry too Nat, I shouldn't have yelled,” Dean apologized, rubbing my back.

Like my brother, he never liked to leave Sam or me alone after he'd snapped at us - I guess it just never sat right with him - and now thinking about it, it isn’t too strange that I could say I got it from him.

"It's okay,” I replied, slowly pulling away from Dean's hug.

“But like I asked, why are you wet?” The blond repeats, raising a brow.

“Sam,” I huffed, silently glaring over at Sam who stood by the fridge trying to stifle his laughter.

Dean chuckled and shook his head, glancing at our brother then back at me, “figures.”

”Imma go get changed now.”

"Okay cool, hurry up though, you don't wanna be late on the first day of school.”

“Can’t I just stay home? I’ll be good, promise!” I bargained jokingly, well…somewhat jokingly at least.

"Nice try, now move your ass!" Dean laughed, nudging me towards my room.

I let out a deep - and over dramatically long - sigh as I dragged my feet back to my room, already shivering from the cold water and new I’d have to shower before changing into my clothes for the day. Grabbing my outfit - the one I had meticulously chosen last night - and drugged towards the lavatory to shower, being a child there wasn’t much maintenance so I was done relatively quickly. However, once dried and changed I stared at myself in the mirror. I recall wearing a pair of baggy black jeans - my brothers always looked so cool wearing those types of pants, so I thought it was cool too - and a blue tank top that was outlined in white stones along with a purple jacket, and I remember smiling thinking I looked pretty cool myself. Walking out of the bathroom I headed into our room, slipping on a par of green socks and gray sneakers. Once done I headed back into the bathroom, climbing onto the stepladder and did my best to comb through the tresses of my messy hair, but holding the elastic band in my hand I felt a little lost - I still wasn’t able to tie my hair up properly at that age.

“Need help?” I heard a voice behind me ask, looking at the mirror I sheepishly nodded at Dean.

“Yes please.”

The blond smiled and walked over, beginning to gather my hair as I opted to brush my teeth while he did my hair - surprisingly both my brothers where pretty good at dealing with my hair.

"Shouldn't you eat first?” Dean asked, raising a brow at me through the mirror while I brushed my teeth.

Tipping my head back I replied, “no' ‘nuff hime,”  was the only thing I could manage through the foam over flowing from my mouth - I probably looked like I had rabies.

Dean nodded thoughtfully, then grinned, “hey listen, I was just thinking…you said it was Sam's fault you and I butted heads, literally, right?”

I remained silent until the blond was done with my hair, which was now tied into a high cheerleader-type ponytail at the crown of my head, and smiled at his work - it wan’t perfect, but it was pretty close. Once released I leaned forward and spat the foam into the sink, rinsing the minty bubbles out my mouth before replying.

“Yeah, the jerk hit me with his pillow, _really_ hard, to wake me up and when I didn't he spilled really cold water all over me,” I replied, cringing at the thought of the icy-water. “Why?”

I stared myself in the mirror as I spoke, patting down my bangs as they were too short to fit under the elastic tie, making sure it didn’t look too crazy while it swooped from the top right of my hairline down to below my left eye, and I remember liking this hairstyle when I was eight, it hid my eye if I wanted to - least to say the insecurities were slowly beginning to sink in.

"Wanna get back at him?" I slowed at my brother’s words, staring at him through the mirror.

"How?" I prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"With a simple and _very_ effective prank,” Dean replied with mirth, smirking at me. “Well?"

I practically whipped around, almost losing balance on the stepladder and nodded excitedly, ”tell me!”

"Okay so I’ll-"

"Guys it's time to go! The bus is almost here!" Sam yelled from the living room, his voice distant but clear enough for us to hear.

Dean was full-blown grinning like the Mad Hatter once telling me his plan, “okay?”

“Duh!" I chuckled, hopping off the short ladder.

Dean and I walked out of the bathroom and towards the living room to get his book bag, and only then did I remember mine.

"Natalie! Hurry up!" I heard Sam yell as I jetted back into our bedroom, Sam loved school and I never knew why because Dean seemed to hate it - at least he always complained about it once coming home.

I quickly snatched my bag off my bed and jetted back to my brothers, our apartment was small enough that I made it back to them within seconds, but I didn't stop running because as soon as Sam saw me he jetted out the door and so did Dean. Once I was out of the apartment Dean quickly locked the door behind me, and the three of us practically ran to the bus, Sam of course was ahead of Dean and me but we managed to catch up, reaching the bus stop just in time.

"WAIT!" Sam yelled, thankfully managing to halt the closing doors.

“Sorry," Dean apologized, walking in once Sam and I were safely on but to the bus driver only glared at us.

"Just sit down,” the man overweight man growled, rolling his eyes at us before starting down the street making the vehicle lurch - Dean quickly placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

‘ _Meanie,'_ I thought passing him, but soon that thought passed once I noticed everyone staring at us.

I practically clutched for dear life onto Sam’s backpack, following closely behind him as we walked down the aisles, and didn’t let go until all three of us managed to find a bus seat next to each other. I sat in between Sam and Dean, nervously fiddling with my bag's keychain when suddenly Sam eyes instantly widen as if something just dawned on him, snapping his head to face Dean with a worried expression - it definitely didn’t help with my nerves.

"Dad isn't here!" Sam hissed to Dean, glancing at me then back at our brother.

“So?”

"Who the hell is gonna register Natalie?”

I looked up at Sam, worried, and thought, ' _what does this mean?’_

"Dad already took care of it,” Dean replied with a nonchalant shrug, glancing out the window tiredly.

“Oh…he did?" Sam asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

At that I watched the blond look back to glare at his younger brother, ”yes he did, he’s not stupid, you moron.”

“Whatever,” Sam huffs, rolling his eyes. “I never said he was.”

After a small pause Dean replied simply with, “bitch.”

“Jerk," the brunet chuckled, shaking his head, and just like that the tension was gone. "What grade is she going to?”

"Third, after taking the test they said she could skip first and second, plus her age helped.”

“Awesome!” Sam congratulated me, patting my back and while I was clueless as to why but still smiled. “Way to go, Nat!”

However, my smile faded quickly and after some silence I just couldn't keep myself silent anymore.

”Guys…I-I’m scared,” both siblings looked down at me with faces of confusion and worry.

"Why?" they asked in unison, then glanced at each other with a flash of annoyance as if silently saying _stop copying me!_ but soon looked back down at me.

"What if no one likes me?" I asked, at that both of my brothers sighed in relief and smiled reassuringly.

"There's no way no one wouldn't like you, Nat,” Sam reassured me, gently rubbing my arm.

"But what if I get bullied?" I asked, thinking of how Sam had come home one day with a black eye because of mean kids in his grade - if they could beat him up they could do the same to me, if not worse.

"Nat if anyone even _tries_ to bully they'll have to deal with us,” Dean said a little more seriously, wrapping a arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug.

“Exactly,” agrees the brunet with a firm nod, but pauses for a moment before raising a brow. “Why would you think that, though?”

I worried at my lower lip, feeling embarrassed for my reasoning but replied anyway, “b-because of my eye…”

Sam and Dean laughed, shaking their heads.

"Nat how many times do we have to tell you? Your eye is awesome, and anyone who doesn't see that is a damn moron!" Sam exclaimed, conviction clear in his voice.

“Really?”

“Really, really,” Dean parrots with a grin, rubbing my arm comfortingly.

"Are you guys nervous?”

"I know I am,” The blond answered, brows creasing a little and I felt slightly nervous.

  "Why?" I was a little surprised, Dean was never the type to be nervous, about anything.

“There won't be enough of me to go around!”

Sam and I began to laugh at Dean egotistical response, but looking back I knew he was just trying to ease my tension - but that didn’t make his answer any less true.

“Okay, yeah, whatever you say Mr. Popularity," Sam chided.

"Hey don't diss me just because your only friend is your math teacher,” Dean retorted with a mirthful laugh, Sam abruptly stopped laughing and glared.

”I have _do_ have friends, you ass!”

"Sure you do, Sammy,” Dean replied sarcastically, a sly smile curling his lips.

Just then, the bus lurched to a stop and in front of it a baby blue and beige public school stood tall. I wasn’t able to see much of the surroundings as all the students began to stand up, making their way off the bus, but just like that I felt a sinking feeling take hold of me again. My brothers and I stood as well, waiting for some of the bodies to file out before following, and once I’d hopped off the bus I quickly reached for Sam’s hand, clueless as to where I had to go. The front gate was crowded with children, teachers, and even some parents - I remember wishing that our father was there with me, don’t get me wrong I was more than grateful to have my brothers by my side, but it was my first day of school and I couldn’t help but think I’d feel a little bit more confidant if he had been. However, my nerves slowly melted away - if only a little - when Sam squeezed my hand reassuringly.

”I’ll take her to class,” Sam began, following Dean into the building. “You better get going or you'll be late.”

"Thanks Sammy,” Dean said before jetting off toward the high school section.

Sam and I made our way into a separate section of the building, an arrowed sign read _Elementary Section,_ and while I myself had no idea what that meant back then it seemed Sam was actually looking for it. We made our way through the crowds of adults and children alike, ducking and weaving when needed before slowly coming to a stop at a line in front of a large desk. I remember not being able to see over it, instead I had opted to keep myself busy by trying to make out the letters printed on the front of it - it was probably the school’s name. There was a small line of kids, each one holding the hand of a parent who talked with someone behind the desk for a few short moments before leaving with a sheet of paper.

After watching the fifth parent leave with a similar sheet, I wondered, ’ _what’s the paper for?’_

Finally, it was our turn and I tried peering over the counter on toes, it worked but only until my legs got tired and I had to stand properly. I recall the woman who sat behind the front desk, she had gold-rimmed glasses with a chain that looped around her neck keeping them secure from falling, and coal-black hair that had paled her complexion. However, the thing I remember loving the most about her was her lips, or at least her _lipstick,_ it was a blood-red that stood stark against her alabaster skin but somehow she made it work with her white blouse. Back then, to me, she looked like and older version of Snow White. I’d thought she was very pretty. Once I’d given up on trying to look over the desk I simply listened while she and Sam spoke.

"Names?" The woman began, voice clear but kind.

”Sam and Natalie Winchester,” Sam easily responded, smiling down at me briefly.

The women paused, sounds of tapping - probably at a keyboard - filled the quiet until the woman spoke again.

“Sorry, the secretary is absent today so I'm helping out, you know how crazy the first day can be,” the woman began conversationally, and Sam remained polite. “I'm actually the guidance councilor, so if you need any help later on, feel free to come see me.”

“Thank you,” the brunet answered kindly before walking away with me, two sheets of papers in his hands.

As we walked away I couldn't help but ask, ”Sammy?”

“Yeah?"

"What's on those papers?”

"Oh yeah, here,” Sam realized, handing me one of the two sheets he’d had. "It's your schedule, it tells you where you need to be and when. There's only ten minutes of homeroom left so we'd better hurry.”

Sam quickly grabbed my hand as we made our way through the hallways, walking fast but refrained from actually running - some teachers glared at us but, thankfully, said nothing. The brunet slowed once reaching a door at the end of the hallway, taking my schedule sheet from me for a moment to check something, looked back up at the barrier, and nodded. The door was a sea blue with some poster of a smiling anthropomorphic pencil saying something, but all I could remember was feeling like I was about to vibrate out of my damn skin. Handing the paper back to me, Sam was the first to move and tapped his knuckles against the wood, pausing for a moment before pushing the door open, and I all but hid behind him - out of fear or being shy I wasn’t sure, maybe both.

"Hello and you are?" I heard a voice question, but couldn't see anything past my brother’s rear.

Unfortunately, all too soon I was pushed forward by Sam and felt like I’d just swallowed my tongue or something. To the left of the room reveled a classroom of connected desks filled with children, all staring at _me,_ and I just wanted to run back home and hide - I was never really a nervous or shy person, even as a child, but I remember suddenly wishing I was invisible. I heard a voice clear and snapped my eyes to the front of me, where a large desk sat, containing contents from papers to colorful stationary, and a woman - how’d I _just_ noticed her? She had on a gray pencil-skirt, black heels along with a violet shirt that outlined her thin pear-shaped body and highlighted her blond hair, but what stood out most where her kind eyes and genuine smile - I recall thinking immediately _she looks nice._

"I'm Sam and this is my little sister Natalie, Natalie Winchester? It says on her schedule that this is her classroom…am I wrong?” Sam asked, looking to the woman for confirmation.

"Ah yes! Perfect timin' we were just doin' introductions and I was reachin’ Natalie’s name soon,” the blonde woman replied gleefully, the twang in her accent made me smile - thinking back it might have been Texan.

"Okay Nat, I need to get to class but when the day’s over I'll be waiting for you at the front of the school, okay?" I sadly nodded at Sam not wanting him to leave, he crouched down coming to my level and tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. “I’m sorry Nat, I really wish I didn't have to leave you alone, but I have to,” he apologized pulling me into a hug, then quickly let go and stood back up ruffling my hair.

"You'll be fine, promise.”

I silently nodded again, watching when he turned to leave but abruptly stopped when the blonde teacher called out him.

"Wait!" Halting, Sam turned back to face the teacher and despite his smile I could see the impatience in his eyes - it was a look I learned to recognize because of our father, he and Sam never really got along.

"Don't you want a note?” The teacher asked, and the brunet raised a brow. “Sayin' why you were late?”

Sam nodded yes, a look of hidden relief washing over him as he walked further into the room while the teacher rushed back to her table, her heels to clacked against the floor as she ran, and I remember thinking _how can she run in those?_ When she’d finally reached the table, the young woman grabbed a notepad and scribbled something onto it before tearing it out, she’d rushed back over to my brother and handed it to him with her ever-present kind smile.

"I know how strict some of them teachers can be.”

Sam smiled, "thanks Miss…" he trailed, not knowing her last name.

“Turner," she answered with a soft chuckle.

"Thanks Miss Turner,” Sam said again, this time finishing his sentence.

”Well you’d better get goin' there's only three minutes of homeroom left!”

"Will you be okay Nat?" Sam asked, body already half-turned to jet out of the room.

"Yeah, thanks, Sammy,” I replied, not truly wanting him to leave, but knew he’d be upset if he’d been late to his first day of class.

“Alright, see you later!" The brunet called over his shoulder and waved goodbye, all but running out of the room and down the hall.

"Wanna come in?" Miss Turner asked, only then did I remember I was hardly past the entry way.

I only nodded in response, slowly walking into room and already felt smaller than I actually was.

"Well Natalie, Billy just finished his introduction when you knocked, and since you're already standin' in the front would you like to introduce yourself?" Miss Turner prompted, it may have sounded like I had a choice, but her tone was like our dad’s when he didn’t actually want an answer other than a ‘yes’.

"Okay…" I trailed off extremely nervous, both hands shoved deep into my pockets to keep others from seeing them shaking - dad had told us that letting others know you’re afraid was always a bad thing.

“Um…m-my name’s Natalie Winchester, I'm eight… I have two older brothers…Dean’s sixteen, he’s in high school…a-and Sam’s thirteen, he’s in middle school…” I paused, my mouth felt dry, and I honestly had no idea what else to say - I glanced at the teacher from under my curtain of hair pleadingly, hoping she’d finally just let me take a seat.

"What about your parents?" Miss Turner asked, smiling at me as though she were oblivious to my silent begging.

"Um we live with our dad, he’s an ex-marine but my mother died when I was born so…I-I don't really know much about her,” I mumbled, my hands turning into tight fists in my jeans.

‘ _I hate this…please let me sit down…’_ I mentally implored the woman again, I remember just wanting to run out of the room and find Sam - or Dean - at that point.

"Oh I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” the blonde apologized, brows knitted together slightly and for the first time I saw her frown - but I didn’t really understand why, I wasn’t sad…had I said something wrong?

I said nothing, instead chose to worry at my lower lip until she’d - hopefully - dismiss me.

"What about you hobbies?”

"Um…" I paused, trying to come up with something.

‘ _Hobbies? I don’t know!_ ’ I mentally screamed, my brain scrambling to come up with something I liked doing. “…D-Drawing.”

I offered up, I knew my answer sounded like a question, but I honestly had no idea what else to say, was drawing a hobby? I knew Sam liked to read and Dean loved to go hunting, so maybe my drawings were a hobby, too? I nervously reached up and tucked some of my bangs behind my ear, hoping that if I looked at her properly she’d take pity on me and finally let me sit down. I hated this. However, I also didn’t want to seem like a bad kid and be rude, our father got angry with us if we didn’t look him in the eye when he spoke to us, and so I believed you were supposed to look at all adults properly when they spoke to you - no wonder she wasn’t letting me sit down, she was probably pissed.

“Natalie,” Miss Turner began, her tone of voice a more authoritative one I was used to hearing from adults.

“Y-Yes Miss?”

“Are you wearin' Halloween contacts?" She questioned, arms folded tightly over her chest as her eyes held a hint of disapproval.

I quickly shot my gaze to the floor unable to shift it, fidgeting in my spot silently, and I could practically _feel_ the other student’s eyes burning holes into me. I recall hating Miss Turner and everyone else in that room at that very moment, it was questions like those that slowly made me grow more and more insecure about my eye while growing up.

‘ _Why do people keep saying that?’_ I thought helplessly and, finally, I slowly shook my head.

"No Miss Turner I was born with my left eye like this,” I replied, my throat suddenly feeling wet and yet somehow dry all at once.

I remember gritting my teeth in that moment, thinking about my brothers and what they had told me time and time again while growing up _your eyes is awesome, Nat!_ and I had to believe them, I just had to. I always wanted to be as cool as Dean and as smart as Sam growing up, and in that moment I knew that if I didn’t stand up for myself people would think I was strange, that I wasn’t cool or strong like my brothers, and I’d hate myself for letting it happen. Straightening my spine I tilted my chin up defiantly, about to ask my teacher _why? Do you have a problem with my eye?_ with the cool attitude Dean so naturally held, when I was stopped just as I inhaled to speak by another voice calling out.

"AWESOME!" A voice all but yelled in excitement from my left, my head snapped towards the sound and I was greeted by the biggest smile I’d probably ever seen.

I remember the day I first met Aaron like is was only yesterday, from his gleaming chocolate eyes to his sandy-blond hair that swooped across his forehead like Sam’s, all the way down to his excitable boyish grin - a feature he never outgrew. It’s crazy to think now that this little boy would change myself so much, and it all began in that very classroom all those years ago.

"Aaron what happened to raisin' one's hand?" Miss Turner began, trying for strict but falling short.

"I'm sorry Miss Turner, but it's just that it really is cool! I mean how many people do you know who have a gold-colored eye?" I smiled as he defended me, the boy - Aaron - looked like he was about to just right out of his seat at any given moment.

“You’re right Aaron, it is pretty special,” Miss Turner finally gave in with a smile, turning back to me "Alright Natalie, sweetie, why don't you go sit next to Aaron since it seems like you two would get along perfectly.”

I smiled at her words, because for some reason, I’d thought so too.

I began to make my through the middle of the perfectly organized five row tables, each row containing eight kids, four to the right and four to the left, two on each connecting table. Once I had I reached the fifth row I turned left passing another two kids before taking my place to Aaron's left who sat in the right corner of the fifth row, leaning his head onto his propped up right arm's hand he just stared with a smirk at me.

"I-Is there something on my face?" I asked once sitting, reaching up to touch my cheek.

"Is that really your real eye color?" He questioned instead, ignoring my question narrowing his eyes and leaned forward.

"Yeah, why would I lie?”

"Hm…" was his only response, leaning further forward to the point I actually leaned _back._ “Huh…"

"Geez Aaron get outta the poor girl’s face!" A girl from behind us stage-whispered, then chuckled.

"Her eye's legit!” Aaron quietly exclaimed, _finally_ backing away.

“Nice!" The girl from behind said again, then I heard her whispering something to the boy beside her.

I turned to face her, and just like that, I met two more people who would change myself as severely as Aaron later would. I still remember Hayley as clear as day, she’d had shining dark brown hair - almost black - that was parted from the middle and lingered around her face, neatly falling onto her shoulders and stood stark against her pale complexion. Her pale blue-eyes took the stage, her lips rosy and full, and I distinctly remember thinking _she looks like a doll…she’s so pretty_.

I never thought I would see someone so beautiful.

"Sorry, hey my name is Hayley Stevens,” the girl introduced with a kind smile, holding out her hand and I took it into mine, giggling as she began to playfully shake it so vigorously my arm shook.

"I'm Malik,” the boy behind her said with a smile and a wave, he had a dark complexion and a great smile with big mint green-eyes along with short chocolate-brown hair.

"Nice to meet you guys!" I said brimming with joy, unable to believe how kind they were.

’ _Who knew my kooky eye would get me such awesome friends?’_ I happily thought, but internally paused for a moment. _‘I_ can _say friends, right?’_

Suddenly the bell rang signaling the end of homeroom and the start of our first class; math. We began to set up, taking out our pencil cases and notebooks as textbooks were being passed out, each pair had to share one. I began to stare off into space, taking note of all the boards with decorations and drawing along with all of its trinkets, tidbits hanging off them shiny and colorful.

"Miss Winchester, are we borin' you?” Miss Turner asked, her sarcastic tone snapping me back to reality.

"N-No! No! Please, c-continue!” I rushed out, tripping over my tongue as if I were saying a tongue-twister.

"No need to get so worked up Natalie, just makin' sure you're still with us,” she said with a chuckle, the rest of the class began to snicker and I sunk a little further into my seat.

‘ _Oh great…just when I thought I was doing good…’_ I thought with an ember face, feeling like I had when I’d first entered the class room.

"Don't be so shy,” Aaron began beside me, grinning like an excited puppy. “Just laugh along like I do!”

"Miss Turner why are you so smart?" The blond suddenly asked, standing up and brought the other students’ attention onto himself.

Miss Turner sighed while trying to hide a smile, “Aaron, sit down.”

"Oh come on Miss Turner, you know me, I’m super smart! I bet I’m as smart as you!”

Miss Turner crossed her arms over her chest leaning on her left hip, raising eyebrow along with a smirk that quickly began to grow, "oh, really?”

"Yes really,” the blond replied, sounding more than confidant with a playful grin.

“Alright then,” she paused most likely thinking of a question "Oh! Here's a real easy one, if you’re so smart,” she teased, continuing. “What's the square root of twenty-five?” Aaron froze wide-eyed trying to think of an answer, chuckling when she’d realized she’d stumped her student - probably as intended.

"I thought so,” Miss Turner said releasing her arms, turning back to the board to continue her lesson. “You’re a smart boy Aaron, and would be smarter if you listened!”

I looked around the classroom, and back at Aaron who seemed dumbfounded, but the question had sounded familiar to me so I decided to give it a shot. Remembering what Sam had been yapping on about before, not that Dean, John, or I were even listening - we had decided to humor him - but I remember him feeling proud for having known the answer to the same question. I hesitantly raised my hand trying to make sure if I was recalling the right answer, Miss Turner noticed my raised arm and raised a brow.

"Yes Natalie?”

“Um…isn’t the answer five?” I replied, my voice slightly hesitant as I tried to make sure that’s the answer Sam had spouted off to us.

“Five,” She repeats, as if mulling the answer over. “Are you sure?”

I paused, thinking, _'I defiantly remember Sam saying it was five…’_

I nodded.

Miss Turner paused, but suddenly a smile pulled at her lips, and I could have sworn her face actually _brightened_.

"Correct!" She exclaimed, beaming at me. “How'd you know?” The blonde asked, the rest of the class turned back to face me once again and I wanted to slap myself.

‘ _Just when they stopped looking at me…’_

"U-Um well my older brother, Sam, loves school and he does, like, really hard stuff, and one night he was talking about a question like that…" I trailed off, knowing she got the point.

“Ah, so you didn’t actually _solve_ it…but being able to remember somethin’ like that is important, since you’ll have to learn and remember a lot this year,” she says to me with a smile, then glances over the rest of the class.

“You all will!”

There was a overtone of groans from the children, but the blonde simply chuckles, not at all deterred by her students.

“Alright Aaron are you going to sit down now?" Miss Turner called out to Aaron, I hadn't realized he was still standing. “So we can start class?”

“Yup,” Aaron says, plopping down onto his seat with a grin. “With Miss Smarty-Pants over here!” He finishes playfully flinging his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side, causing the class to laugh, even Hayley and Malik shook their heads while laughing - I laughed too, Aaron was sweet.

The rest of the day went smoothly, at least until the class before lunch.

"Hey Nat, you okay?" Aaron whispered, head ducked towards me so no one else would hear.

I was lurched forward, clutching my stomach with a pinched expression I hadn’t even realized I was making until Aaron asked me.

"Yeah it's just…I didn't get to eat anything this morning 'cuz we were late…”

"Neither did I, but why do you look like you're about to die?” The blond asks, voice light but I could still hear the concern in it - Sam and Dean sounded like that sometimes, too.

"'Cuz Dean and I are like our dad, we’re _always_ hungry so not eating is like…worse than torture to us,” I huffed, trying to ignore the pangs of hunger I felt.

"What is it this time Aaron?" Miss Turner asked, without even turning around as she continued to write on the board - she really did know Aaron.

"Sorry Miss Turner, I just…figured out something crazy,” he answers jokingly, I let out a small chuckle at his response.

"Well Aaron this is english not science or history, so please, pay attention.”

"Sure thing, sorry Miss Turner!”

"It's okay, just pay attention,” she replied kindly, looking back I don’t think Miss Turner ever snapped at any of us - no matter how irritating we got with her, she was a great woman and teacher.

Aaron ducked once again and whispered to me, “just come with me once the bell rings, I’ll help you find the cafeteria, okay?”

I smiled and nodded, “sure, thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied with a smile of his own.

About fifteen minutes later the bell rang for lunch and I was the first to stand up, but paused upon realizing I actually had no idea where the cafeteria was, and instead watched everyone else move to go to the lunch hall. Maybe if I followed them they’d lead me to the right place? Wait, no, Aaron said he’d take me. Looking back down at Aaron’s seat my brows shot up in surprise…he was gone. Already? But how? I swallowed thickly, my head told me he changed his mind and left without me, but I shook my head at the notion.

' _Maybe he’s waiting for me outside,_ ’ I concluded, following the large crowed of children out of the classroom.

However, standing in the hallway for about six minutes I sighed deeply, my shoulders slumping and gave into the thought that Aaron really _had_ lied about helping me out. I looked around the hallway and found a teacher, asking them where to go before heading off in the direction they had pointed to. Finally, once making my way through the line I stared down at my plate of potato wedges, square pizza and water. The food looked alright, but at that point I was hungry enough to eat paper if it smelled good enough. However, now I stood, embarrassed, in the lunch hall with no idea where to sit.

‘ _Everyone’s in their own groups…there are hardly any free spaces, where am I supposed to si-’_ my internal dilemma was cut off by the calling of my name. ‘ _What the?’_

“Nat!” The voice calls out again, scanning through the crowd of bodies but failed to find the source. “Natalie!”

I narrowed my eyes further, trying to find the voice and go wide eyed once I had; it was Sam. My brother was actually waving me over from a table filled with other people, despite feeling nervous about meeting Sam’s friends, I was still relieved that I wouldn’t have to sit alone. I carefully made my way through the mass of kids, both shorter, taller and similar height as myself, and let out a clear sigh of relief once I was securely sat next to my brother.

"Hey Nat,” Sam beams at me, and I felt myself instantly relax. “This is Alex, Brianna, Evelyn and Mick,” he introduces pointing to each of his friends who wave at me, I wave back with a smile of my own.

“Hey," I meekly greeted each one of them, after all, at the age of eight how would you honestly be able to make a ‘cool’ first impression to your older sibling’s friends?

I recall sitting beside Sam, but was hardly able to keep still, constantly worrying that the dreaded question of _how’s your day going?_ would come up. I mean, it went better than I’d thought, but the three kids I thought I was making friends with ended up ditching me, and knowing Sam he’d just try to hunt them down and kick their butts for being so mean. However, even back then I knew Sam beating up third graders would only land him in trouble with the school, _and_ our father.

I quickly tried diverting the spotlight away from me by asking, “so, Sammy, how was your day?”

"It was awesome,” the brunet replied happily, taking a bite of his tater-tot. “This morning my homeroom teacher took me aside and told me because of my grades last year a lot of the teachers wanna give me some harder material and see how that goes, and I found out I’m not the youngest in my class anymore!” I smiled at my brother’s news, when Sam started school he’d skipped a grade just like I had, so he was usually the youngest in all his classes.

"Yeah that would be me, I'm the youngest,” Alex pointed out while raising his hand, and we all began to laugh.

“Aw it’s okay Alex, we’ll take good care of you, our widdle baby!” Evelyn joked, a few more jokes were thrown out and even Alex made a few jokes at his own expense - but it was all said in good fun and everyone was almost in stitches laughing.

"So what about you Nat?” Sam questioned once the laughter had died down.

' _So soon?!'_ Was all I could think, if I lied Sam would know almost instantly - as an eight year-old I didn’t have the best poker face.

“Um…well,“ I paused for a moment, trying to think of a good way to word the events of my day when a voice boomed behind me.

"Hey Natalie!” Whipping around I see Aaron, grinning wildly at me. “Awesome table!" I watched - honestly shocked - as Hayley, Aaron, and Malik - in that order - put down their trays next to mine.

"Oh, hey guys…” I mumbled, looking at them in confusion.

' _I thought they left me?’_

"Sorry we're late,” Malik begins, looking genuinely sorry before shoving a fry into his mouth.

“We had to take Hayley to the nurse for a bit,” Aaron continued without missing a beat, but goes silent while taking a bite of the school’s greasy pizza.

“Oh, why?" I asked, no longer as upset but instead worried and I looked at Hayley next to me. “Are you okay?”

"Oh um…” she trails, forcing a smile onto her face. "I'll tell you later, okay?” Hayley suggests, but before I can say anything further she quickly adds.

“W-Who are these people?" Gesturing to the rest of the table, smiling at me as she waited to be introduced.

“Oh, sorry, there are lots of people here so I'll just name everyone,” I started by pointing at Sam and continued clockwise, everyone waved a greeting or mumbled one through a mouth full of food - well what do you expect? We were all gross kids and tweens back then.

"Hey dorks!" A voice exclaims from behind Sam and I, the two of us - understandably - jump out of our damn seats.

Sam snaps his head towards our eldest brother and glares so hard I thought he was hoping Dean would drop dead.

“You scared me, you prick!” Sam huffs, shaking his head at the blond. “Guys, this is our, _annoying,_ older brother, Dean.”

“Hey," a chorus of voices replied, the guys not really paying much attention but I noticed Evelyn suddenly go all dreamy-eyed at my brother. Gross.

"What are you doing here?”

"Just checking up on you morons,” Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's response and I giggled.

The duo went back and forth on their usual banters before it settled down, mainly because I took the initiative to smack them both where I could reach them.

“Anyway,” Sam huffs, rolling his eyes at me. “You gonna join us or what?”

"Again, I said I was just _checking_ on you, no way am I going to sit with you dweebs,” the sixteen year-old chuckles playfully, both Sam and I knew it was just a joke and laughed as well. “Besides, I got a chick waiting for me over there.”

Dean gestures to a pretty redhead with a group of other popular looking kids, “so I’ll see you two after school.”

Watching Dean walk away, Sam and I looked at each other before rolling our eyes, a silent agreement that, yup, _our brother’s an idiot_.

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah Nat?”

“To answer your question, from before? Today was awesome,” I smile, the look mirroring onto my brother’s face before he pulls me in for a hug.

“Good, I’m glad.”

I remained in his embrace for a moment but then struggle out of it like any embarrassed kid would, “okay enough mushy stuff!” I laughed, finally freeing myself and turn to look at Hayley. “Wanna come to the bathroom with me?”

"Yeah sure!" Hayley replied with a wide smile, we both stood up left for the restroom.

"What do you think they do in there?" I heard Aaron as we walked away.

"None or your business, stupid!” Brianna laughed, Hayley and I looked at each other before giggling at our friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this is the edited version of chapter 3 and I hope you liked it! by the end of this chapter Natalie is 8, Sam is 13, and Dean is 16 (I realized while reading through that the ages they’re at might become confusing, so I’ve decided to list it at the end of each chapter) Please remember to comment and tell me what you think!


	4. Daydream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello wonderful people, I hope this chapter makes it up to all of you! The title is from the song Daydream by Smashing Pumpkins, give it a listen they’re an amazing band!! 
> 
> NOTE: This chapter has been edited (in 2016) to the best of my abilities, please let me know if there are still any mistakes!

**(Natalie’s P.O.V)**

I remember the second Hayley and I got to the restroom I all but ran into a stall, instantly thinking that I’d made myself wait far too long - then again there’s always just something about _seeing_ what you think you only slightly want, for it to turn into a full-blown _need_. Once I finished with my 'business' I flushed the toilet, and happily strolled out of the stall, walking towards the sinks to wash my hands - thankfully I was tall enough that the bathroom sinks weren’t a problem. Watching suds of soap swirl down into the drain my mind wandered, landing on a question I was forced to bite my tongue on earlier, but upon the thought striking me once again, I couldn’t help myself anymore.

"Hey Hayley,” I piped up, looking at my new-found friend through the restroom mirror. “What was Aaron talkin’ about?”

I noticed as the young girl suddenly went rigid, looking back I think I could have handled that situation better, but as a eight-year-old child I thought talking about all your problems was the way to feel better - it’s what I’d inadvertently learned from my brothers while growing up.

“You said that you'd tell me later," I prompted, watching her reflection with searching mismatched eyes.

“Y-Yeah…that’s actually why I came to the bathroom with you,” Hayley mumbled, slowly closing the tap as well. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked nonchalantly, but I remember that there was just something about the way Hayley held herself in that moment that made me nervous.

' _What does she want to tell me that we have to be alone for her to say it?'_ I thought frantically, as I worried at my lower lip - a nervous habit of mine.

“O-Okay um… “ the brunette began, turning to lean her back against the sinks and rung her hands together. “I guess ‘cause you’re so nice to me, you h-haven’t noticed something different about me?”

“Different?" I trailed off, feeling confused.

“Natalie…promise me you won't be mean to me once I tell you,” Hayley all but pleads, looking at me with sad eyes.

"I won't…I promise," I answered, my voice almost inaudible.

‘ _What’s going on?'_ I thought to myself, feeling paranoid.

“I-I…uh, I have c-cancer,” Hayley stumbled out, voice so soft I’d only just managed to hear it as she ducked her head at the final words - trying to hide her face from me.

“W-What?” I blurted out, staring at her in shock - for a millisecond I recall thinking she was joking, but even as a child I could see how sad Hayley was I knew she wasn’t kidding.

“But you have hair… and y-you…" I trailed off feeling speechless, grasping at straws as to what to say.

"You lose your hair when they give you medicine, and they're giving it to me…my hair’s just a wig,” the young girl sighed, reaching for the ends of her faux-hair reflexively - almost like she was ashamed.

“It’s why my eyebrows are so thin…I haven’t lost much hair yet but I shaved my head…I didn’t want people seeing me losing hair,” she paused staring at me, looking for some kind of reaction. "I-I just wanna be normal…” Hayley continued, dark synthetic locks curtaining her face from view, but I could hear the way her words began to sound wet and strained - I remember just wanting to hug her tightly.

“I was born with cancer, it’s called _Ac-Acute Me…no, it’s M-Myeloiod Leuk-kemia_ ,” the young girl explained, sounding out the words with a practiced sort of precision - despite her stumbling. “And as soon as people find out I’m sick they treat me like I'm a freak or really, really weak, and I’m _not_ any of those things! I hate it!” Hayley cried, even her angered words coming off hurt. “Aaron and Malik are the only ones who ever treated me like normal after I told them!”

I remember looking at Hayley, thinking that the reason for her pain was an obvious one, but the means to understand it was lost on me at the time. I knew she was scared to lose another person as a friend, even back then, but what I couldn't understand was _how could people be so mean?_ I knew my biggest fear upon starting school was being bullied, - was having no friends - but knowing I had Sam and Dean made me feel safer, and now looking at Hayley despite her having Aaron and Malik; she was still scared. I wanted to hug her, scream at the people who made someone so sweet and gentle so horribly sad and insecure - that was the first time I felt capable of Hulking out, and even going so far as throwing a damn table at someone if it meant Hayley would feel better. Whenever I think back to that moment in the restroom, my heart always twists painfully behind my breastbone, and now each time I do I either call Hayley and tell her I love her, or just find her and bear hug that wonderful girl.

I was pulled back to reality when Hayley finally managed to continue, "a-and if you know from now, just tell me if you won't be my friend, and don't feel bad ‘cause you won’t be the first, but Aaron and Malik will be mad at you if you’re mean to me! And I’ll be sad and mad too!”

I gazed at Hayley for a moment, a little dumbfounded, but at the mention of her two best friends I could see the confidence in her slowly show itself; she was a strong girl - she just needed to embrace it.

"Don't be scared," I replied in a soft tone, trying to calm her down. “I want to be your friend…”

"What?" the brunette gasped, looking at me in shock.

_‘Did she think I’d say no?’_

"I won't treat you any different, Hayley,” I explained, smiling fondly at the girl. “I don’t care if you’re sick, I just care that you’re nice, and you are! And you’re funny too! So I really wanna be friends with-”

"T-Thank you," the brunette rushes out, beaming at me while wiping away her tears.

" _Except…"_ I continued, watching as her smile faded, and while I had felt bad I needed to get this out. “If people are being mean to you, I’m gonna get Aaron, Malik, and my brothers and we’re all gonna beat ‘em up!" I explained with a child-like ferocity, watching Hayley with an expectant smile.

“Only if I can do the same,” she answered with another glowing smile, a gleam of determination in her eyes.

“Deal!” I laughed, my smile grew when Hayley ran towards me and I held my arms open wide.

Nearly tackling me to the floor, I wrapped my arms tightly - but mindfully - around Hayley, I’d quickly regained balance but noticed that she refused to release me from her iron-like hold, and so I continued to hug her back - truth be told, I didn’t want to let go, what can I say? I’m a hugger. After about a minute or so, the brunette finally let go of me, but still held me at arm's length while smiling. However, I could see as the nervousness slowly crept back into her eyes.

"I'm so happy…whenever I tell people they said they didn’t wanna be my friend, and it hurt…it made me real sad. I don’t know why, I still don’t…but Malik and Aaron were the only ones who still wanted to be friends with me after I told them, and now you," Hayley explained with a small smile, slightly red-rimmed eyes staring directly into my mismatched pair.

“Don’t be silly, Hayley! Anyone who doesn’t wanna be friends wit you is _stupid!_ ” I said with conviction, meaning every word and the girl before me had giggled. “I swear! I met you today, and I think you’re so nice and cool and that I’m super lucky I met you!”

“Really?”

“Really, really!” I exclaimed, smiling like a manic at the brunette. “I thought I was going to be called a freak because of my eyes, but then I met you guys and you guys called me eyes cool instead.”

“It’s totally cool, I’ve never seen eyes like yours!” Hayley beamed, sniffing a little - her tears fully dried.

“Thank you,” I replied with a grin of my own, brushing hair off of the young girl’s face. “Let’s get you cleaned up," I continued kindly, with a nod and smile she walked over to the sinks while I grabbed a paper towel.

Once finished washing Hayley's face clean of tears, I remember only having just reached the restroom’s door, gripping the handle when Hayley suddenly halted me, and said something that still means the world to me to this day. I’d looked back at her, confusion drawing my brows together, but waited for her to speak.

"Your eye's not weird, Natalie, they’re amazing…they’re special and I love them,” the young girl preened, searching my mismatched eyes to make sure I had understood. “You're no more a freak than me or Aaron, or Malik, okay? We'll always have y’er back no matter what happens, okay?”

I recall the feeling that surged through me in that moment, the confidence that suddenly bubbled within me, not only for myself but for those around me. Hayley reminded me that I was strong, and even in moments when I didn’t think I was, I had people there who would be my sword and shield until I could fight again. With just a few words, Hayley marked down the best day of my life. Yes, there were other moments where I felt nothing but sheer happiness, and would even claim that it was _the best day of my life._ However, the events of that day had all lead up to Hayley and I speaking, and in that moment my life had changed - I may not have known it back then, but it was no less true. The first day of school is the day I’d met and began to love and trust all the people who would later help me mold my life - the friends I’d be able to count on when I needed them most.

“Okay,” I sighed happily, hugging Hayley once more before pulling away. “You wanna go play in the field?”

The young girl gleamed excitedly at me, “yes!”

Hayley always loved playing in the school field when we were younger. 

The two of us had only just walked out of the girls’ restroom when a duo jumped out with a _Boo!_ , scaring the wits out of Hayley and me. I remember fumbling to keep up right while Hayley yelped in surprise, but before either of us bothered to run we both huffed at our assailants; it was Aaron and Malik.

“Guys!” I exclaimed, glaring at our friends. “You scared us!”

"Sorry Nat!” Aaron had laughed, and even then I knew he wasn't remotely apologetic.

“We were planning to go out to the field and play!" Malik answered excitedly, looking between us. “Wanna come?”

“We already asked Sam and the others but they said they had to printout somethin’ for class,” Aaron added with a childish shrug, as third graders school work still hadn’t been a thing we cared much about.

"Oh wait! Our trays! We gotta clean them up or we'll get in trouble!" Hayley blurted, worried, she’d always been such a goody-two-shoes in school - which is surprising considering her friends are such a rowdy bunch.

"Already done!" Aaron and Malik answered in unison.

I’d grinned and looked at my new found friends, excited, “let’s go then!”

Seconds later I recall all of us darting out to the field, the school supplied children with toys for lunch - so long as they were all returned, which thankfully they always were - and we decided to play catch for the remainder of our time. As the day dragged on I’d actually managed to get through the rest of my classes with ease, and even remember thinking; _I never thought school could be so much fun!_ I’d actually been upset when our first day of school came to an end, cringing when the last bell rung, and even went so far as to sigh and slump in my chair - back then, school was nothing short of amazing for me. Then again, _children_ did see school as fun until the real work kicked in.

Aaron yawned, stretching out his limbs as he stood up out of his chair, “home time!”

"Yeah…"I murmured, not nearly as excited to leave as he had been, but began to gather my things regardless.

"Alright see you guys tomorrow!" Hayley farewelled, walking to the classroom door - I used to think she took the bus, but it wasn’t until later that I learned she just didn’t like to make her parents wait.

“Yeah, see yeah tomorrow, Hay!” Malik replied happily, his Iron Man backpack already secured on his shoulders.

I followed behind the two out the classroom, quite sullenly I recall.

"So you guys going home together?" I questioned, looking between them.

I remember Aaron and Malik looked at each other, a faint grin playing on their lips, before answering me.

“Nope,” Malik said, throwing a glare at the blond. “We hate each other!”

“W-What? But I thought you two were best friends?!” I rushed out, staring at them in disbelief.

Their glaring only lasted a few more seconds before they’d burst into giggles, shaking their heads and smiling at me.

“Of course we’re going home together, we’re brothers!” Aaron laughed.

“Stop messin’ with me guys!” I exclaimed, feeling flustered. “Do you really hate each other?”

“No moron,” Malik laughed, nudging me with his shoulder. "I guess no one told you, but we really are brothers.”

"Malik is my step-brother,” Aaron had supplied, slowing to walk on the other side of me. "My real mom died when I was born, and Malik’s real dad died before he was born, but then his mom met my pops and they got married.”

“Whoa…that’s awesome, and really sad, I’m sorry guys…" I answered nervously, looking between the duo who shrugged.

"Nah it's cool, it's not like it's your fault or anythin’ and we didn't know ‘em anyway,” the blond responded nonchalantly, and looking back I don’t know whether to laugh or cringe at how straightforward my best friend were; even as children.

"Yeah it's cool, I'm just happy to have such an awesome little bro!” Malik preened, reaching over me to ruffle his brother’s hair.

"Little?" I questioned, looking to Aaron.

He huffed and rolled his eyes but nodded nonetheless, “yeah Malik it two months older than me…”

Malik and I began to laugh at Aaron's annoyance, children would always jab at someone who so clearly wanted them to fuck off, but the ever-so-good-humored Aaron began to laugh with us. That was - and is - something I always loved about Aaron; his ability to find the silver-lining and join in on the fun, looking back; he was always smiling. I remember feeling as though we’d reached the front gate all too soon, and while I knew I couldn't make my friends stay, I just prayed for tomorrow to come faster. The three of us stood silently while we searched for our families, Aaron and Malik for their mother - that I later learned was named Sandra - and me for my brothers.

"There's mom,” Aaron said after a moment, hiking the strap of his Captain America backpack further up his shoulder. “We gotta go Malik.”

"Okay, see you tomorrow Nat!" The brunet called out over his shoulder, just as his brother called out.

“See ya!” As they scampered off, I quickly yelled out a _see you later!_ of my own before they’d hopped into their mother’s minivan.

Thinking back to the moment, I remember feeling annoyingly alone, while I knew I’d see Hayley, Malik, and Aaron the very next day; I just couldn't wait. However, roughly a minute later I felt a tap on my shoulder, which had yanked me from my thoughts and made me jump. Whipping around I was greeted by Sam and Dean

"Geez! You guys scared me!" I huffed and punched my eldest brother in the arm, only to be clipped behind the head for it.

"Sorry Nat didn't mean to, anyway we gotta hurry to the buses," Sam apologized, but soon grabbed my hand as we ran to the buses - I remember asking Sam why we were running, only for him to breathlessly reply _the bus waits for no one!_

He wasn’t wrong, and apparently both he and Dean had to learn that the hard way.

"Nat this is our bus, from now until you graduate it’s gonna be the same one, so if Sam and I ever can’t come with you to school you have to remember which one it is, go it?” Dean instructed me as we climbed aboard, I looked to the number on the front window of the yellow vehicle and nodded.

"Bus thirty-nine, got it!” Dean smiled and ruffled my hair, and despite my protests I was smiling myself - I always loved making my brothers happy.

On the ride home I remember having told Sam and Dean everything that happened on my first day, from when Sam’s mathematical ramblings actually helped me in class - he laughed out a _see! Being smart helps!_ while Dean just rolled his eyes - to playing catch with my new friends at lunch. I know now that two teenagers probably couldn’t care less about the day of an eight year old, but as always my brothers listened and were genuinely happy for me, proud that despite my fear I made the best out of my day - but the reality was, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them. Before any of us realized it, our stop had come up - thankfully Dean noticed - and we all clambered off, walking leisurely back to our apartment.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked, looking between my brothers.

“Please tell me it ain’t Lunchables again,” Sam sighed, but I had no idea why; I loved Lunchables.

“Nah, we ran out of those last night,” Dean answered, and I remember feeling _extremely_ disappointed. “Though I think we have some mac ’n’ cheese left.”

I’d perked up at that, I always loved mac ’n’ cheese - and still do.

Once we’d gotten settled back home, I was headed to the kitchen when Dean had all but hauled me into his room, and quickly shut the door behind us.

"What the hell Dean?!” I yelped, glaring at my brother - there was no way I was going to tell him he’d scared the crap out of me.

"Dude shut up!” The blond stage-whispered, glancing at his door. “Don’t you remember the plan?”

I paused for a moment before our conversation from that morning came back to me, “oh yeah!”

“Good, you remember what to do, right?" I quickly nodded, almost jumping on the balls of my feet in excitement. "Okay then take this," Dean said and handed me a photo that even gave me the chills - I still cringe thinking about it.

I recall the photo printed out of the A4 piece of paper - Dean must have printed it out at school - it was some kind of man with spiders crawling out of his mouth, along with maggots eating away at decaying flesh. The undead man held a horrifying grin across his face, showing horrendous yellow shark-like teeth, each one stained with dried blood and skin. However, what stood out the most to me - even back then - was the faded and cracked makeup in white, red, blue and yellow; it was an undead clown, and I remember thinking _it’s perfect!_ Even as a child I could recall the Legendary Prank - as Dean had dubbed it, despite Sam’s protests - he’d pulled on Sam years prior. Apparently our older brother had made Sam watch Stephen King's movie _IT_ before scaring the crap out of him, but I had only been a year-old at the time; so I never actually got to see the prank happen - but I _do_ know the prank is the reason why Sam wouldn't step within ten miles of a McDonalds, or even clowns in general.

"Alright let's go," I nodded to the blond, who grinned at me before walking out of his room and I followed right behind him.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, calling out brother from the living room.

" **What?!** " Sam bellowed back, making his way from our room to the living room when Dean didn’t respond.

' _None of them would yell this much if dad was here,’_ I remember thinking, hiding where Sam couldn’t see me.

Dean spoke when our brother arrived, “so we were gonna order pizza and I wanted to know what you wanted.”

Dean began stalling Sam as I quietly crept up behind my older brother.

"Just the usual," Sam answered with a sigh, he always got the same veggie pizza - even now - but just before he moved to turn around and head back into our bedroom Dean quickly sputtered out.

"What about a movie?! Yeah, what movie do you wanna watch?”

"Um…" Sam paused to think, but I could practically imagine the strange look he was giving Dean as I stood behind him; picture hovering over my face. “Can we watch-”

The brunet stops when I tapped on his shoulder, followed by an innocent, “hey Sammy?”

“Yea-WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam screamed, jumping back and falling onto the floor. "THROW THAT DAMN THING AWAY!”

Dean and I nearly fell to the floor laughing.

"Pay back!" I managed through my mirthful laughter, clutching at my sides - rumpling the paper in the process.

“Dude, I don't think I've ever heard your scream so _high pitched!"_ Dean cackled, almost breathless.

"THROW IT AWAY _NOW!"_ Sam bellowed again, glaring daggers at the two of us.

"Okay, okay chill Samantha,” Dean chided, wiping his eyes. “Throw it away Nat," he ordered and I nodded before walking over to the kitchen and ripped up the paper, a smile lingered on my face as I chucked it away - I remember despite my laughter it still gave me the creeps.

"It’s safe, Sam" I joked, walking back from the kitchen.

“You're both such _dicks!"_ Sam cursed, scrambling off the floor.

At that I actually felt bad, it was just a prank - I’d never meant for Sam to get so upset.

“Hey…chill out Sammy, it’s just a pra-” I tried, but Sam cut me off.

“IT'S SAM!" Bellowed the brunet, then stormed off to our room.

I remember feeling like my stomach had sunk down to my feet, Sam only ever - still only ever - said that when he was _pissed._

“H-He's really mad huh?" I asked, and looked over at Dean with worry.

“Nah, just give him time to cool down. Once the pizza gets here he should be fine, you know how he is about clowns.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally sure, he’s probably planning his revenge as we speak,” the blond chuckled and I breathed out a sigh, Dean was probably right…even if in that moment I was sure he was most likely wrong.

“Okay…"

Dean and I fixed up some popcorn for ourselves and settled down to watched some random episode of _Friends_ on TV, as a child I wasn’t fully invested in it but still found some parts funny - namely the slap-stick humor the show often provided in some way or another - but chatted with Dean over the more ‘dramatic’ scenes of the show until the doorbell rang. Dean looked over to me then stood, picking up our dad’s shotgun by the TV before walking over to the door - most would have found it strange, but I had grown up around the need to take a gun to the door when home alone; that over time it surprised me to learn that not everyone else did the same. After all, our father had all but ingrained in each of us to _always check the door with a gun in hand because you never know what might be on the other side_. Dean looked through the peephole before setting the weapon aside and switched it out for his wallet, I let out a small sigh of relief - nothing had ever happened up to that point, but I remember always nervous regardless.

Conversations at the door never lasted more than around thirty seconds, usually with the same words of; “ _Hey, yeah, okay, thank you, bye”_ in said order, but with Dean it was normally over in fifteen seconds flat - this time it took about nineteen seconds; I counted. Dean turned around and waved me over, handing me the warm pizza box the second I reached him, then got his change from the pizza boy - he looked around Dean’s age. Dean always made sure to get his change back and never gave a tip if not necessary, but I always made him - Sam said it was mean not to.

“Dean," I huffed, nudging my brother.

The blond sighed and handed the teenager two one-dollar bills, closing and locking the door before the guy could even thank him, “I don't see why the hell he deserved a tip.”

“Don’t be mean, he brought us pizza!” I replied, shaking my head as I headed back to the living room from the mudroom. “Hey Dean, when's dad coming back?” I asked and plopped down onto the floor, my back rested against the couch.

"Probably by next week, end of it by the latest,” the blond replied, before cupping his hands around his mouth and bellowed out. "Sam pizza's here!”

After few moments of no reply, he yelled again, "better move your ass before it's all _gone!”_

Just as Dean was about to inhale and shout again we heard the door open, Sam came trudging over to the couch not long after, but sat on the far edge away from Dean and me.

I sighed, feeling bad, but felt a little relief that he wasn’t mad enough to skip out on food.

Dean, however, ignored Sam’s gesture Dean grinned, “alright, _Goosebumps_ time!”

I nudged Dean’s leg, and shot him a look that I hoped said; _he’s still mad_ but the blond chuckled and shook his head, replying with a look of _everything’s fine_ before turning his head back towards the TV screen. I recall us watching around four episodes of _Goosebumps_ when we finally noticed it was almost eleven, and finally decided to call it a night - despite what people may think about three rowdy kids being left home alone, we were pretty well behaved when our dad was gone. I’d gone through my usual bed-time routine, which consisted of; a change into my pajamas, brushing my teeth, and used the toilet - I used to hate waking up in the middle of the night to use the restroom, I would have never admitted it; but I was scared to venture outside of Sam and my’s room at night. By the time I walked into the bedroom Sam had already beaten me into bed, fast asleep with the covers over his head - giving off an obvious leave-me-alone vibe, and I knew if I didn't listen to said ‘vibe’ I would just make things worse. I remember with a heavy sigh I switched off our room lights before carefully shuffling into bed, crawling onto the cold sheets I felt off, Sam never not tucked me into bed unless he was angry.

Maybe the prank was a mistake after all.

' _I really wanna say sorry to him…'_ I thought as I snuck under my covers to get warm, but knew waking him would be no help, I remember lying there for nearly a half hour before sleep finally overtook me.

I’ll never forget the dream that drowned me that night - and the many nights following it.

_"Natalie wake up…it’s time for school!" I could hear Sam yelling for me, I opened my eyes only to be immediately blinded by the streaming sun that made it’s way through our curtains._

_"Ow…" I muttered, slowly moving to get out of bed._

_Looking around the room was empty,_ where did Sam go? _I thought before walking over to our beige dresser-drawer, opening the fourth drawer I gaped at a beautiful white dress I had never seen before, and excitedly pulled it out to get a better look. The gown had a string-bow at the front just beneath the chest, thin straps for the shoulders, and beside it a light purple cardigan; I immediately fell in love with it._

_'_ When did I get this? It's so beautiful…' _my thoughts trailed off as I imagined myself wearing it._

_I quickly changed into it, deciding to wear it rather than just imagine, and looked into the full-length mirror on the wall; I looked so…pretty._

_"_ **_Natalie move your ass!"_ ** _Dean bellowed from beyond my room._

_If he hadn't called for me I would have just stared at myself in the mirror all day long, I couldn’t help it, I just loved this dress so much._ _I quickly ran into the bathroom tying my hair into two pigtails and left my bangs to fall over my left eye. When I was done I looked…normal, but then I tucked most of my bangs behind my ear, after all I could never be normal; just myself. As I entered the living room Sam and Dean quickly - and reluctantly - walked to the door ignoring me as they did so._

_I ran up behind them to try and catch up._

_"Sam are you still mad?" He answered my question with silence, I worried at my lower lip before trying again. ”I'm_ really _sorry, Sam! It was jus-" I was cut off._

_"Shut up Natalie," the brunet answered bluntly, so - with a wince - I did._

_We had just walked through the door when I realized I had forgotten my school bag, and Dean must have noticed._

_"What's wrong Natalie?" He asked, voice flat and drone-like, not shifting his gaze from ahead of him._

_"I forgot my school bag, I need to go back and get it!" I rushed out, about to step back into the apartment when someone roughly grabbed my arm to stop me; it was Dean._

_"No," was all he said._

_"But Dean-“_

_"NO!" The blond shrieked at me, his hold tightening painfully. “Now_ move!”

_Suddenly I was thrown forward, losing my balance and hit the floor, hard. That's when I realized something else too; I had forgotten to put my shoes on._

_'_ How could I have forgotten that?' _I thought to myself in confusion._

_"GET UP!" Sam all but screamed; I jumped._

_I was too scared to argue, so I quickly complied but it didn't take too long for my skidded knees to make the process a lot harder, I winced and tried to stand but refused to move as the pain shot up and down my legs. I only noticed I was bleeding when my knees stained the hem of my white dress, looking down at my hands, my palms were even prickling with crimson and dirt._

_“I-It hurts,” I whispered and my voice shook._

_It was then Sam came charging at me, grabbing my arm to haul me off the floor with another shout,_ “ _Move it!”_

_Releasing me the brunet passed me, uncaring of my pain or the blood and grime that covered me. I had to be strong…right? I slowly walked behind them, my eyes cast down to the floor. Trying to swallow back my tears but I couldn't, I felt weak as the tears began to spill down my reddened cheeks, my vision blurred and body shook with it._

_'_ What's wrong with them? They’re _never_ like this…' _I thought sadly, fearfully._

_"Better get used to it," I heard someone in front of me say, my head snapped up to see that Dean and Sam had stopped walking, simply standing and glaring at me now; I shrunk back in panic._

_“Or you could come with me…" a mysterious voice behind me trailed off._

_Suddenly, the air was thick and heavy as the sky fell dark, as if the sun could no longer light the world. Scarecrows began to fly around in the smog that appeared making it harder to breathe, my body stiffened as I slowly - uneasily - turned around, only to see a black shadow in the silhouette of a tall man standing behind me. His face remained hidden in darkness, and all I could make out of the man was his dark and raspy voice as he spoke._

_"Come with me, Natalie, I promise to make you happier than they could_ ever _make you," the man began to lower himself to my level as he spoke, reaching out a pale hand towards me._

_He scared me to no end, with each word spoken I stepped back, only to be shoved forward and fall onto my bloodied knees once more. I choked on a cry as I landed in the dirt, looking up I quickly recoiled, his hand was inches away from my own. I was lost and confused, but I knew that not matter what happened; I couldn’t let him touch me. I couldn't believe him._

_"Natalie my dear, you don’t need to be scared of me…” he whispered, face only inches from mine. "We’re the same after all…”_

_I swallowed wetly, thickly, and shook my head - there was no way I was like him. The darkness around the man’s face lightened slightly, enough for bright yellow-eyes to shine through the black and I stilled in dread. His eyes were_ much _brighter then my golden one, but they were still so similar it made me tremble. However, his eyes were full of a horrifying evil, the sight alone shot fright through me; my skin breaking out in a cold sweat. I gasped, shocked, which only caused him to chuckle._

_“I'm nothing like you!" I screamed, my panic now overflowing as I trembled uncontrollably. "GET AWAY!" I screeched again, crawling away from him._

_He laughed at me._

_“I’ll come back for you, Natalie,” the evil man chuckled, standing up once again. “I promise I’ll always come back until I have you…”_

_His yellow-eyes were the last things I saw; everything went black._

I remember springing up like a shot, my trembling body was coated in a cold sweat, and my shirt and hair clung to my skin - I must have kicked my blankets off of me as they were no longer on the bed. My breathing was quick and short, a scream caught in my throat as tears stung my eyes; I was petrified.

' _It was only a dream… just a dream…'_ I tried reminding myself to calm my heart, my eyes darted around the room in fear that the man would be here, but thankfully he wasn’t.

I sat they're whimpering to myself, the words of _it’s just a dream_ on reply in my head in an effort to calm down, but despite my tries I recall curling in on myself like a horrified infant as I continued to cry. I don’t actually remember how long I sat there shaking, maybe it was a few minutes, but back then they felt like hours, and the only thing I knew that would calm me down was just across from me. I looked at the bedside table that stood in between Sam's bed and mine, the clock had read _4:23am_ and I just couldn't help it; I needed Sam. I remember slowly getting out of bed and walking over to the brunet’s using the moon's light to help me see, the light was sparse but worked well enough. However, even if it had been pitch black I would have still tried to seek Sam out; I just needed to know he didn’t hate me…like the Sam in my dream did.

Reaching the sleeping mound, I gently nudged the brunet and brokenly whispered, “S-Sam…please Sam-my wake u-up.”

He began to stir in his sleep until he finally woke, rubbing at his eyes and croaked out tiredly, “Nat? What time is it?" 

I ignored his question and instead asked him one of my own.

“S-Sammy, if y-you’re not still angry…c-can I please sleep with you? Please?” I whimpered, trying to choke back sobs but knew I failed when Sam sat up like a shot.

“Natalie are you okay?!” He stage-whispered to me, clutching my shoulders only for worry to mar his face further. “God, you’re shaking like a leaf…you’re so pale, Natalie, what happened?

I shook my head, still too scared to speak about my dream, but thankfully Sam seemed to understand.

“Nightmare?” He supplied softly and I nodded tearfully, with a sigh Sam pulled me in for a tight hug which I immediately returned. “You have nothin’ to be afraid of, Nat…I’ll always protect you, okay?” I sobbed softly onto my brother’s shoulder as I nodded, the brunet held me tighter and rubbed my back, “lets get some sleep, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” I managed out and pulled back.

The brunet slid back down into his bed, making room for me and lifted the blanket for me to join him, I didn't give it a second thought as I quickly dove into my brother's bed and hugged him as tightly as I could.

“It’s okay Natalie, you’re okay…you’re safe now,” Sam whispered to me, rubbing my back as I clung to him. “I'm here for you, now and always, Natalie. So don't be scared, no matter what it is Dean and I are always here for you, any time, any day, okay?" He reassured me softly over and over again, but I only hugged him tighter.

Sam continued to rub my back and told me stories about him and Dean, along with stories about how I used to be as a baby, never letting me go as he spoke. The brunet continuously told me tale after tale, and I knew Sam must have been tired, but nonetheless, he kept on going. I was able to drift off at some point, and thinking back on that night I still remember the warmth and safety I felt as Sam held me; it was the kind of love and protection only a big brother could offer, and I loved and cherished that feeling more than anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? I love the cute relationship Sam and Natalie have! Please remember to R&R! Speaking of which, I would like to thank all those who commented on the previous chapters! (These user names are from 2 different websites)
> 
> ~Cristina748  
> ~cybermen-and-timelords  
> ~aranka17   
> ~Natalie T  
> ~Autobots_rollout  
> ~lmaohatemyself
> 
> Thank you wonderful people SO MUCH for commenting, it means the world to me!


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